Stop All the Clocks
by OhBother3
Summary: A new Angel is created in Heaven. Her purpose is to find and destroy the demon Crowley. Follow Samael as she struggles to uncover the truth. Why has the Serpent from the Garden started hunting Angels? Who was Aziraphale and why, in all her lessons, was that name never mentioned? What other secrets are the Angels from Heaven keeping from her and how will she ever uncover them all?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I published this story on Ao3 a little while ago and wanted to post it here too, but I couldn't remember my account login info, so I just made a new one. The story is completed here ( [a03 website] ****/ works/19938556/chapters/47211274****) if you wanted to read more now. I'll try and post a few chapters tonight and get the rest up sometime tomorrow or Monday. Enjoy! And please leave reviews if you feel so inclined. I love reading them! :)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of Good Omens. **

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The first color she ever experienced was violet.

Her eyes opened and immediately all her senses were flooded with a billion sensations. The hum of voices whispering around her, the feeling of the cool air on her exposed face and arms, the indescribable smell of things she knew she did not know the names for yet. It was impossible to process them all at once, so her mind chose to focus on the violet pools in front of her. They were bright, brighter than she could ever have imagined, and they shone with wonder and pride and… Love.

Involuntarily, she blinked, causing darkness to swim before her for a mere fraction of a moment. When her eyes opened again, the violet pools were smaller - further away. For the first time, she realized they were attached to something else. A tall being with short brown hair, dressed in a grey suit, wearing a kind smile on his face.

She had no idea how she knew what a suit was, or descriptors such as tall, brown, or kind. Before she had opened her eyes for the first time, she had known nothing. She had _been_ nothing. And now she was something.

"What am I?" the question left her being and seemed to echo in the space around her. The murmurings from earlier ceased and the world fell silent.

"You are an Angel," the mouth attached to those beautiful violet eyes responded. She found the voice to be gentle, pleasing to her ears. Subconsciously she reached a hand up to the side of her face, fingers brushing up against the piece of flesh protruding from her head. Yes. She had ears after all.

"Like you?" she asked curiously. He had ears too. She could see them even though her eyelids continued to flutter shut periodically, obscuring her vision. How very strange. The being before her also had arms and legs and a face like her own, but very different. His hair was short. Hers was long and fell in waves of platinum curls all the way down to her waist. He was taller, by at least a head, and had large, strong hands. Hers were soft and dainty by comparison. He wore grey, covering himself from head to toe, only exposing his hands and his face and those piercing violet eyes.

The being smiled and the gesture reached his eyes. She had a sudden feeling that this was a rare occurrence for him. "Yes," he responded, reaching out a hand. She had no reason to know what he meant by this gesture, but somehow she felt herself reaching out for him anyway. His skin felt warm and kind and safe and Good. "Like me. Like all of us. But oh, so very different."

For the first time, she realized there were other beings here besides the two of them. She looked around, taking in each of the forms. Three other Angels stood several feet in front of them, watching them with curiosity and wonder.

The closest one appeared the most different from the being whose hand she now held. This Angel had beautiful chocolate skin and hair shorter than that of the first Angel. As she turned her head, small specks of gold could be seen shining across her skin. Like the first Angel, she, too, wore grey from head to toe.

More grey as she looked on the next Angel. This one also appeared female, with lighter skin and brown hair that was pulled back tightly atop her head. She had fairer skin and dark eyes that stared down at the new Angel with an unreadable expression.

The pair were not smiling. They did not appear to be upset either, although the new Angel didn't know if she would recognize negative emotions such as those if they were staring her right in the face. She didn't seem to even know how she knew such things existed.

The last Angel, however, _was _smiling. She was sure of it. He gazed at her with brown eyes that were soft and inviting, the edges of his lips curving upwards toward them. This Angel had long hair like hers, although his was dark and straight, while hers was light and fell in ringlets like a halo. He was the only one of the others that wore all white, choosing to dress in a comfortable looking robe instead of the proper grey uniforms the other Angels had on. She looked down, realizing she was dressed in a similar, but slightly shorter, white robe. Looking back up at him, she smiled back. Her first smile.

It felt wonderful.

"Come," the Violet Eyed Angel spoke. "We have much to show you."

They began to walk down a long white hallway. Everything was white - the floors made of white tile, the walls made from white stone, the ceiling hovering dozens of feet above them formed from more tiles and the occasional fluorescent light. Echoing footsteps were the only sound she heard as the hallways stretched onward for what seemed like an eternity.

On either side of the hallway there were doors. Dozens and dozens of doors. They had no markings to distinguish one from the other. No plaques, no designs painted onto their surfaces. Even the doorknobs were identical from one door to the next.

She had no knowledge of what lay behind those doors. Since the other Angels said nothing as they passed by, there was no reason for her to ask about them. If she was meant to know, she would. There was nothing else to it.

"Do you know where you are?" the Violet Eyed Angel asks as they enter a wide room with windows lining the exterior wall. The room was empty save for a glowing blue and green sphere at the center of it. She smiled as her eyes fell upon it. They may not be quite as stunning as violet, but blue and green were beautiful colors in their own right.

"Heaven," she answered simply. She was an Angel and Angels belonged in Heaven. So that must be where she was. She had no reason to be anyplace else.

"Good," the Violet Eyed Angel continued, his gaze leaving her face for a moment and sliding over to the orb suspended in midair. "And do you know what that is?"

She didn't, but the word came to her mind anyway. "Earth." It meant nothing to her, not yet. But at least she knew its name.

"Do you know who we are?" his voice was gentle, letting her know that everything was alright. It didn't matter that she didn't understand now. She would come to understand. They would make sure of that.

Silently, she shook her head. The Violet Eyed Angel released her hand and beckoned the other three forward. They stood in an arch around her, with him at the center. She waited patiently for them to continue, knowing that they would impart on her all the information she needed to know.

"I am the Archangel Gabriel," the Angel said, his violet eyes twinkling. "These are Archangels Uriel, Michael, and Remiel." He gestured to them in turn. The other three nodded their heads in greeting. She mimicked their motion in return.

"Who am I?" she asked once the silence settled around them once more. They didn't seem to be in much of a hurry to get to the point of it all.

"Your name is Samael," the dark-skinned one, Uriel, supplied. "The newest of all of us."

Samael nodded. Upon hearing it, the name slotted itself nicely into her consciousness. Out of all the names that could have been chosen for her, this one felt _right. _

"You have been created for a very special task," Gabriel continued, drawing her attention back to his violet eyes. She couldn't seem to look anywhere else. "It is our job to prepare you to take it on to the best of your abilities."

"I wish nothing more than to fulfil my Purpose," Samael found herself saying. She turned to gaze at the three other Angels. The two females stared at her impassively, like it was their duty to be present this day - to observe her coming into being - and nothing more.

The last Angel, Remiel, was different. He was gazing at her with an unknown emotion shimmering in his eyes. Samael couldn't be expected to recognize all of them, not after only being in existence for the blink of an eye compared to the rest of them. Still, part of her felt this was important. The slight crease at the center of his forehead and the way his hands lay stiffly at his side seemed significant, yet she could not figure out why. If he wanted her to know, he would tell her. There was no point in thinking on it further.

"Tell me what I must do."

Silence hung around the Angels as the Archangel Gabriel took a step forward and clasped both of her hands in his. The feeling was just as warm as the first time, just as comforting, but this time there was an underlying urgency to it.

For the first time, Samael felt something shift inside her...unpleasantly.

"You must find and destroy the demon Crowley."


	2. Chapter 2

Samael's training consisted of three different parts. The first one, and the one that both Uriel and Michael insisted was the most important, was combat training.

"You need to be prepared for anything, Samael!" Michael shouted as she swiped upward with her wooden sword. Samael raised her own weapon to block the strike. "Crowley is a vicious _murderer _and he will cut you down without a second thought if you get in his way. You must be ready for him!"

Without glancing over her shoulder, she parried the blow from Uriel aimed at her back. The Archangels were merciless with their training. The stakes were too high, they said, to be anything else.

"There is no room for error," Uriel cried, her foot connecting with Samael's stomach, sending her tumbling to the ground. Although she knew she didn't need to breathe, the angel still felt the rush of air being knocked from her lungs. Everytime she fell, she picked herself up again, the words of the Archangels ringing in her ears. "You must be swift and strong. You must not fail!"

There was no response - she never chose to give them one. Samael's task here was to learn as many forms of combat as she could. If things went pear-shaped, she had to be ready to take on the demon in close combat. She had to destroy him, whatever the cost. No time for idle chit-chat.

"The demon Crowley is a vile creature," Gabriel would tell her during the second part of her training. He was the one who filled her in on all that she had missed. He told her of Heaven before the humans. There had been no sides back then. No 'us' against 'them' - all of creation had been one. Everything had been perfect.

Perfection was apparently not destined to last forever. It was all part of the Great Plan, Gabriel kept saying. An Archangel rose up and rebelled against the Goodness of God and he and his followers were struck down. They were cast out of Heaven forever and fell into the sulphurous pits of Hell.

The first demons were born and the world would never be the same.

"So Crowley was the first tempter?" she had asked once. "The one who offered Eve the forbidden fruit?"

"Yes," Gabriel had answered without hesitation. "He was the reason the humans had to leave Eden. He caused the first Sin. It's been a downward spiral ever since."

Samael wanted to ask why what the demon had done was considered bad if everything was all part of the Great Plan, but she didn't. Gabriel grew unhappy whenever she asked questions about the Great Plan, and she hated the feeling she got in the pit of her stomach whenever those violet eyes looked at her with any sort of disappointment in them. She did not want to be the reason those eyes displayed anything but happiness and pride. So she held many of her questions tightly to her chest. He would tell her everything she needed to know.

Gabriel taught her many things about her target. Crowley was lazy but resourceful. Cowardly, but daring. He'd always done the bare minimum, from what Heaven could tell, and yet had constantly been commended by Hell for his actions. French Revolution? Crowley's work. World War II? Crowley. Every moment in history that resulted in the deaths of countless human lives could all be traced back to Crowley. He was Hell's number one operative on Earth and had sowed a lot of destruction in the 6,000 years he had spent there.

It was only natural, Gabriel had pointed out, that the other side would have entrusted him with the deliverance of the Antichrist. The job would have made him the most popular demon in Hell apart from Lucifer. He would have been hailed a hero in starting the final battle between Heaven and Hell.

"He betrayed us all," Gabriel explained, a hint of disgust seeping into his voice. "He swapped the babies out, purposefully putting their sights and, more importantly, _our _sights on the wrong boy. He allowed the Antichrist to grow up as a..._human._ He stopped the Apocalypse, all so he didn't have to leave his simple life on Earth. So he didn't have to fight in the glorious battle that will one day decide the fate of the universe."

Once again, Samael wanted to ask about the Great Plan. If the Apocalypse had been averted, who was to say that it wasn't part of that plan? Maybe Crowley had done the right thing - he'd surely saved a lot of lives, from what she could tell. Surely, that couldn't be considered bad. Unless those lives were supposed to have ended. Then, maybe what he'd done was considered bad? She sighed. It was all so confusing to try and figure out.

"The demon Crowley is many things," Gabriel continued, not noticing her momentary frustration. "But the most important thing to remember is that he is not like other demons. He has been on Earth too long - been warped into...something else. Hell tried to destroy him for treason. They failed. Now, it is up to us to take him down before any more damage can be done."

"Is he killing more humans?" Samael asked. That was the logical conclusion, wasn't it? If that had been what made him so notorious to begin with, it wouldn't be out of the question to assume that the demon was doing it again.

Gabriel sighed, and for the first time, Samael witnessed the emotion grief.

"He's killing Angels now."

If she'd had a heart, Samael was sure it would have stopped beating.

Killing Angels? Was that even possible? She didn't think there was anything on Earth or in Heaven that could kill an Angel.

"You mean discorporating them." Gabriel had previously described the phenomenon of discorporation. He'd never experienced it himself, but he talked about some experiences Heaven's operatives on Earth had gone through. None of it had sounded very pleasant to her, but discorporation was by far better than the alternative.

"I _wish_ that were the case."

Samael waited while Gabriel appeared to collect his thoughts. She didn't understand. If this were true, then how had it happened? How many Angels had been killed? Was Crowley responsible for all of them? How had he done it and why had the Archangels felt it necessary to create a new Angel to deal with this threat? Why couldn't they do it themselves?

"_Crowley_," Gabriel spat the name as if it were poison in his mouth, "has found a way to destroy the essence of an angel. We don't know how he does it. We didn't even realize he was the one responsible until the third time it happened." The Archangel hung his head in shame and Samael felt her heart break for him. Did he blame himself for what had happened? For not figuring it out sooner?

She had a sudden desire to reach out her arms and wrap them around his waist. Samael realized she hated seeing Gabriel like this. He didn't deserve to be filled with so much pain and regret. Demons shouldn't be able to extend their reach into Heaven, but she could see that Crowley had done just that. For the first time since she'd awoken, she felt anger burning beneath her skin.

"How many?" she asked, the words tight against her lips. It would not do to lose her composure here. Save the fury for the battlefield. That is where it would be most useful.

"Six so far."

Samael felt her stomach drop even further. A cold dread washed over her and it took all of her strength to remain standing. Six? Six of her brothers and sisters were gone, just like that? The thought of never getting to meet them, never getting to know them, was almost too much to bear.

Heaven had not been her home for very long in comparison with the rest of the Angels that resided there. Still, Samael had managed to meet hundreds of her family members that called this place their home in the time that she had been given so far. She loved them all. Each Angel that she met was so beautiful and kind, and they all had such wonderful gifts and talents. There was Israfil, who loved to make music. And Nuriel, who created the most beautiful patterns out of ice crystals. She had called them 'snowflakes' and explained to Samael how much the humans on Earth delighted in watching them fall to the ground. Sariel painted the most beautiful colors in the evening skies and Zadkiel's strength and courage knew no equal.

Angels were not supposed to have favorites. The love they experienced was meant to be universal - equally applied to all of Her creation. Samael tried to follow that rule, as she followed all the other ones. No matter how hard she tried or what she told herself to justify how she felt, Samael couldn't help but enjoy the time she spent with Remiel more than any of the others.

Remiel was the third part of her training, the one that taught her about the Humans. She had yet to figure out if she loved this part the most because he was the one showing it to her or if her fascination with the humans made her look forward to the time spent with Remiel more than her other instructors. Either way she looked at it, the hours she spent with Remiel were her fondest memories.

"What's that?" she asked, curiously, looking down at the image below her. She and Remiel often met in the large windowed room when they had their lessons. He was able to manipulate the image of the Earth to show her anything she wanted to see. They could look at any place on the planet at any time during history. He encouraged her to ask questions and Samael found that once she had started, it was nearly impossible to stop.

A laugh erupted from Remiel's chest, filling Samael with a warm fluttery feeling. She felt an unfamiliar heat rising in her cheeks and wished desperately that there was some kind of mirror she could look into to be sure they weren't actually on fire like they seemed to be.

Suddenly, Remiel's cool hand was brushing up against her cheek. "Never be embarrassed to ask questions," he began. "Not with me." She nodded her head in understanding, touched by his kindness.

"That's a waterfall," he continued, gently. "It happens anytime the flow of water falls over the edge of a cliff."

"And those bands of color?" she asked again. "In front of the waterfall. Are those part of it too?"

Remiel smiled, his dark eyes lighting up with joy and wonder. "That's a rainbow, Samael. It's meant to be a promise from God to Humanity."

"A promise?" She didn't understand that term. Normally, when Samael didn't understand a word, the meaning would drift into her subconscious without her even noticing. One moment, she didn't understand, and the next she did. Sometimes, however, the meaning would get lost somewhere and she would have to wait until one of the Angels explained it to her.

"Yes," he responded, suddenly very serious. Samael watched as he reached forward and took both of her hands in his. In all her time here, Samael had only touched a few of the Angels. Gabriel had held her hand to guide her on the first day she had been awake. Michael and Uriel occasionally brushed up against her when they were fighting. This touch with Remiel was something entirely different and new and exciting and the angel didn't know what to do.

"A promise is a statement that one being makes to another," Remiel explained, a flicker of unknown emotions in his eyes. "Something that they hope against hope to be true." He squeezed her hand. "For example, I promise I will do what I can to teach you what is good and help support you for all the days of my life."

Samael smiled as a wave of warmth passed through her. She liked promises.

"Can I make one too?" she asked, hopeful. Remiel nodded.

"I promise," she began, unable to keep the grin from her voice, "to never ever stop asking you questions."

This statement brought forth a laugh within him, banishing the momentary glimmer of something else that had previously been present in his eyes. She was still learning how to identify all the emotions that Angels and Humans felt. So far, the pleasant ones had been much easier for her to grasp. In time, she would learn the others.

"Good." He released her hands to ruffle her hair slightly. During combat practice, Samael was required to wear it up and out of her face. Gabriel, like the female Archangels, believed having her hair up kept her more focused, so she did as he wished during their time together. It was only here as she and Remiel gazed down at the marvelous creatures of Earth that she felt able to let it down.

"What was Her promise to them?" Samael asked, looking back down at the rainbow. She hadn't ever heard God make a promise before. The angel hadn't heard God say anything before. It seemed a bit odd that the deity that had created her had never even bothered to say hello, but Samael did not dwell on the thought too long. It was all part of the Great Plan, she was sure of it.

He didn't answer right away and this concerned Samael. Remiel was always quick to answer her endless questions. He always seemed eager to teach her all of the wonderful things about Humanity. Why did he hesitate now?

"It was a promise to treasure them." His voice was much quieter now. The joy had left his eyes. "For all of eternity."

Before Samael could ask anything further, Uriel soared into the room. Sweat had pooled on her brow and her gold markings were practically glowing. Her chocolate colored eyes were filled with grief and a new feeling Samael instantly recognized as _fear._

Remiel turned to face her, seemingly unable to ask the question they both had hovering in their hearts. Luckily, neither one of them had to lend a voice to it. Uriel answered the question for them.

"Sandalphon's dead." A single tear escaped from her eye. "The demon got to him too."


	3. Chapter 3

Finally.

After nearly five bloody months of this tirade, they finally sent down an Archangel to check up on him.

It wasn't the Archangel that Crowley had wanted. He had assumed Gabriel would be too much of a coward to show this early in the game. That would have been too much to hope for, but surely either Michael or Uriel would have been the first to volunteer. He'd met them many times before - remembered the air of self-righteousness that had hung around them both. Either one of them would have been the obvious choice to send down to Earth. Crowley imagined they wanted him just as dead as he wanted them.

The thought that Sandalphon would have been sent had never occurred to him, but it didn't take Crowley long to formulate a plan. This Archangel was a simple one to understand. He would be easy enough to take down. In hindsight, it was probably best that Sandalphon would be the first Archangel that Crowley confronted. He needed to work his way up the food chain, not the other way around.

Sandalphon was currently walking through St. James park. He had arrived on Earth at precisely 10:12 am and had started his investigation at the Ritz. Crowley had sensed his aura the moment he'd arrived in London and had immediately moved to start trailing him. In the past, getting this close to an Archangel would have been suicidal. They would have sensed him instantly. A demon's aura was unmistakable and Crowley had never been good at hiding it.

Everything was different now. The demon didn't understand exactly why or how or even when he had changed, but he had. And although he spent nearly every waking moment _wishing _he could go back to how he'd been before, the change was useful in times like these. Angels couldn't sense him if he didn't want them to, and Crowley _really _didn't want them to. At least, not right away.

He took to following and Sandalphon was none the wiser. He followed the angel from the Ritz down several blocks to a corner bookshop that had recently opened back up to the public. After spending nearly an hour poking around the newly refurbished place, the angel had made his way to the park, stopping only at a rather large pond filled with ducks.

All the while, Crowley kept his distance, never once taking his eyes off the angel. By midafternoon, the demon had decided Sandalphon was a complete imbecile. Really, the Ritz? The bookshop? St James Park? Those were the places he had thought to look for Crowley? The demon hadn't set foot anywhere near any of them in months. Not since that day…

Sandalphon was on the move again, and for the first time, Crowley didn't have a guess as to where he would go next. It wasn't as if he'd spent much time anywhere else where the angels might have seen him. Back then, he hadn't been their main target of observation.

Crowley was tired of this game. Perhaps, once he'd taken care of this Archangel, it would send a message to the others. He was not one to be trifled with.

In the blink of an eye, the world grew silent. No breeze rustled, no birds sang. All life was on pause, as long as he willed it.

Only then did Sandalphon turn his way. Crowley met his gaze with a sick, twisted smile. His yellow eyes narrowed in unmasked fury and disgust. He was going to enjoy this.

"Demon Crowley," Sandalphon began, his voice displaying no sign of concern for what was about to happen. It was as if he hadn't even registered that Crowley had destroyed half a dozen angels already. Surely _he, _an Archangel of the Almighty, couldn't be harmed by a worthless demon. Crowley grimaced. How blindly these foolish creatures put their faith in Her. "Your actions have been deemed by Heaven to be an abomination. I have been sent here to enact divine retribution for our fallen brethren. You will stand and receive my judgement."

The words had barely left his mouth and Crowley was already on him, a knife pressed against the Archangel's throat. "I think not, _angel_," he responded, spitting the last word out as if it burned his tongue. There was no one who deserved to be called by that name. Not anymore.

He pressed the blade in further, just enough to draw a thin line of blood on that disgustingly bulbous neck. The tiniest of orange sparks flitted across the blade and onto the angel's skin. If Crowley hadn't been looking especially for it, he would have missed it completely.

"What is the meaning of this?" Sandalphon hissed. "I. Am. An. Archangel. The Almighty will not stand for this."

"Won't she?" Crowley murmured back, his free hand gripping the angel's arm, preventing him from escaping. He looked deeply into Sandalphon's eyes, searching for a glimmer of uncertainty, a moment of doubt. That was all he needed. "If She wanted to stop this, why hasn't She sent down a lightning bolt to smite me where I stand?"

The angel had no response to that. Crowley honestly hadn't expected him to. These creatures were all the same. Always holding steadfast to their beliefs, no matter how idiotic or misguided they might be.

"She doesn't care about you," the demon tried, wondering if Sandalphon would be as easy to corrupt as he hoped. "She never did." He pressed himself forward, leaning slightly in so the angel could feel Crowley's hot breath on his neck. "You're not even a real Archangel."

There it was. A flash of panic followed quickly by doubt and then anger. Sandalphon pushed at the demon, trying to shake him loose, but it was already too late. Crowley could see the faint black lines spreading outward from where the spark had touched the Archangel's neck. Sandalphon may not have realized it yet, but he'd already lost the fight.

"Lies!" the angel cried as another flash of fear entered his eyes. Radiant energy burst forth from him as a pair of white wings spread out behind him. Crowley couldn't believe his luck. This really was too easy.

"Issss it a lie?" Crowley hissed in his ear, relishing the way the angel trembled beneath his touch. A slice of pain stabbed through his heart as a brief memory flashed before his eyes of a very different angel trembling in a very different way. He slammed the door to those memories shut and pressed onward. "You were only promoted to Archangel after The Fall. She didn't want you to lead the others. You were ssssimply sssecond bessst."

"No - " Sandalphon protested, wings twitching uselessly behind him. He didn't have the energy to do much with them anymore. What little strength he had was already waning. "You're wrong."

"I'm a demon, Sandalphon," Crowley pointed out, watching the trickle of blood slide down the angel's pale skin. "I know ssssin when I ssssee it. Envy isn't a good color on you." He paused as the angel's eyes grew wide. For the briefest of moments, Crowley's snakelike eyes flickered up to the exposed wings before him. Nothing yet.

"You dessssire to be more like them," he pressed. "To be strong like the other Archangels. You want them to think you are important. But deep down, you know you are nothing compared to them. Had Lucifer and the others not rebelled, no one would have even known your name. You're glad that the rebellion happened. You are _happy _that the Almighty was forced to cast her beloved children out of Heaven, because it gave you a position that you so desperately wanted, and yet, it ssssstill isn't enough!"

"No!" the cry was more frantic this time and once more, Crowley's eyes were drawn to the pristine feathers glistening in the sunlight.

They weren't all pristine anymore.

The demon grimaced. "I'd ask you to pass a message along to Gabriel for me, but you won't be going back to Heaven." Crowley locked eyes with Sandalphon once more and saw the familiar pain he'd once felt all those years ago. He felt anger stir within him and let it rise. This was nothing compared to the agony he'd been forced to endure. The angel deserved this punishment. They all did. "Or to Hell, if we're being honest."

With one quick movement, Crowley's knife found its way in between the former angel's shoulder blades. Sandalphon let out a blood curdling scream as he writhed, falling on his knees onto the pavement beneath their feet. The demon watched him with dead eyes. It was over. If the hellfire spark hadn't destroyed his essence already, the holy water injected into his bloodstream would surely be enough to finish him off. Crowley wondered, for a moment, if the pain of hellfire or holy water was enough. Torture had never really been his thing.

"I won't miss you," Crowley admitted as the last light in Sandalphon's eyes vanished and his body crumbled to dust.

One breath in. One breath out. Time resumed as if nothing had happened. As far as all the humans in St. James park were concerned, nothing had. For the concept of a demon murdering an angel on a bright and sunny Friday afternoon was absolutely preposterous.

Hours later, when the afternoon was over and done with, a demon returned to his flat, set down a knife on the bedside table, and wept.


	4. Chapter 4

Despite all her training, Samael was not prepared for the first moment she arrived on Earth. Immediately, her senses were flooded with a million things she had never experienced. She had to shut her eyes just to try and make sense of it all.

Earth was so _loud _compared to Heaven. Birds chirped overhead, cars rushed by with low grumbles, humans walked up and down the streets, chattering to each other in roars that coalesced in her ears. She had never known noise like this.

And the _smell. _Samael had felt her stomach turning within her. What _was _that? A mixture of dirt and petrol and sulfur and cinnamon and a number of other things that her mind could not provide words for at the moment. It was all just too much. She felt as if she was going to pass out.

_They are counting on you,_ a small voice inside her whispered. Samael immediately snapped to attention. Crowley could be anywhere - he may have already sensed her arrival. She had to prepare herself.

Unfurling her wings, Samael took to the sky. She was relieved to see that none of the humans around her seemed to notice. Remiel had mentioned that humans weren't accustomed to seeing angels out in the open. Therefore, she had to be careful that no one saw her. Using miracles in such a way was new to her, and she hadn't had much time to practice. Sandalphon's death had spurred all the Archangels into action quicker than they may have liked.

She'd been sent down to Earth almost immediately after a quick briefing with Gabriel, Michael, Uriel, and Remiel. They had relayed the details about the incident with Sandalphon to the best of their ability, but there was still so much they didn't know. Samael was going into this confrontation practically blind.

"How do you know he won't try and strike me down like the others?" she had asked the Archangels. She wasn't afraid of death, but she had noticed in all her time with them that they seemed convinced that Crowley would either be unable or unwilling to destroy her. That was the reason they were sending her and not someone else.

They hadn't answered her with anything more than she 'had been designed for this'. It was only once she stood to say her farewells that Remiel pulled her aside.

"I can't really explain," he began in hushed tones. The other Angels had already left the room, but Remiel seemed nervous all the same. "But I want you to be prepared."

He paused, placing a hand comfortably on the sleeve of her robe. "There will be a moment when you confront him where he will hesitate. And please -" he stopped her, "don't ask me why. It is impossible to explain. Crowley _will _hesitate, fairly early on, I'd imagine. Use that window he gives you. You may not get another chance."

From her perch on the rooftops of London, Samael gazed down below. Remiel's words churned within her. How could he know what the demon's reaction would be? Why was it so impossible for him to explain? There was so much more she wanted to ask him. So many things about the humans she didn't yet know. Perhaps, when this was all over, she would have her chance to find out.

At first, she couldn't sense the demon anywhere in the city. Gabriel had ensured Crowley would be here - insisted that the demon rarely left the city and when he did, he always returned. London had become a base of sorts for the creature, and no matter how far he strayed, he always came back.

Crowley couldn't have gotten far, Samael reasoned. Time moved differently in Heaven than it did on Earth, but she had been told that Sandalphon had his run in with the demon just the day prior. If Crowley had fled the city afterward, he would have needed to miracle his way out. And that would have left a mark somewhere.

Closing her eyes, she thought back to everything she knew about the demon. He was a tempter. Above all else, that was his job on Earth. The sun was setting in the sky and the people of London were beginning to emerge from their homes, flooding the streets as they headed out for a night filled with food, drinks, and music.

Drinks. Her mind fixated on that word. Crowley liked alcohol. If she had to take a guess as to where he might be on a Saturday night, assuming the demon wasn't tracking down another angel to kill, a bar wouldn't be a bad place to start.

She hadn't learned a lot about bars during her time in Heaven. There were so many other things to discover that small buildings crammed full of drunk people hadn't been at the top of her list. Samael knew that there were many bars in London. It would be impossible for her to search them all in a single night. Not without a miracle.

Performing a miracle would alert him to her whereabouts, of that she had no doubt. How else would Crowley have found the other angels? She would prefer to be the one to seek him out, not the other way around. The only way to do that was to get her feet down on the ground and pray she got lucky.

Praying was a strange concept for Samael. She hadn't seen much of it back in Heaven. The angels were, of course, always open to listening for the Almighty's voice, but were quite happy to go about their business when She chose not to say anything. They'd said a prayer together after the news about Sandalphon had gotten around, but it had felt more like a ritual to her than a conversation.

Samael gently lowered herself to the ground, watching out for any humans that might accidentally bump into her. Deep down, she knew they likely wouldn't even notice hitting her, but moving herself out of the way seemed like the polite thing to do.

_If you want me to find him, please point me in the right direction. _Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath to steady her nerves, tucked in her wings, and took off down the street toward some highrises.

She had barely taken half a dozen steps when a pair of voices drifted toward her ears.

"I swear, the car came out of nowhere. One minute I'm walking across the street with no traffic in sight and the next I'm almost being run over by an antique car going 90 miles per hour in central London!"

"Was it a Bentley?"

"How should I know?"

The voices were coming from a trio of girls in front of her. Samael found her attention drawn to them. Something about the word 'Bentley' had struck a chord with her, although the meaning of the word appeared to have gotten lost as they sometimes did.

"There's a guy who drives an old Bentley that lives over in Mayfair. In one of those big apartment buildings. I've seen him driving around before - that guy's a maniac. Never bothers to look where he's going. Always wanted to mention something about it to him, but he's kinda scary. He wears all black and has those sunglasses on all the time. It's like he's hiding something, you know?"

Samael didn't stick around to hear the rest of the conversation. She had heard enough to figure out what the right direction was. Without a second thought, she headed to Mayfair. Narrowing down her search to a particular area of London might just be enough.

He was in the third establishment she checked, leaning up against the bar as if he hadn't a care in the world. Samael's eyes were drawn to him the moment she entered the room. He was, unsurprisingly, dressed in all black - a stark contrast to the shoulder length red hair that was currently half pulled back away from his face. Black shades sat perched in front of his eyes and she watched him subconsciously push them further up the bridge of his nose as he leaned in to say something to the bartender.

Anxiety flashed through her. This was him. She was standing a mere forty feet from the demon who was responsible for the destruction of seven angels. He didn't look that dangerous, but all her training told her to be on high alert.

Crowley hadn't noticed her yet. At least, it did not appear that way. Slowly, she began to pick her way through the crowd, still hiding herself from the humans that were currently swaying back and forth around her. Her eyes rose to find a door at the other end of the room. If memory served her correctly, that door would lead her back outside into the street.

It was as good a place as any, she reasoned. Attacking Crowley here was asking for someone other than him to get hurt. She didn't want that.

The door was locked when she reached it. Samael resisted the urge to glance behind her, to see if Crowley had noticed her yet. She had to be patient. If he followed her outside, she would have her chance.

A small miracle was all she needed for the door to click open. Samael could feel the holy energy flowing through her fingertips, filling her with an indescribable warmth. Without looking back, the angel opened the door and stepped out into the cool evening air.

She found herself in an alleyway. A quick glance left and right told her it was deserted apart from a single pigeon that took to the air upon spotting her. Samael swiftly moved away from the door, straining her ears to listen for any approaching humans.

"You are absolute rubbish at hiding yourself. You know that right?"

Samael hadn't expected Crowley's voice to sound so apathetic. She had been prepared for anger and hatred and all manners of hurtful words to come from him. Here, he almost sounded amused.

"I wasn't trying to hide from you," she responded, keeping her eyes fixed on the streetlight up ahead. Remiel's words of warning flashed in her mind. _There will be a moment when you confront him where he will hesitate. _Was this the moment? Was he hesitating now? Or just biding his time?

"Tell me," the footsteps behind her had stopped just outside the door. Silence surrounded them both as the hum from the bar came to an abrupt stop. The door had closed behind him. He had come alone. "You're not an Archangel. So why did they send you down here to do their dirty work?"

"I was created for this." With a single flex of her hand, a sword appeared out of thin air. She could feel the tension crackling between them and she gripped the blade tighter. "I have to stop you."

"Oh!" she heard the demon exclaim as, slowly, the angel began to turn around. "You're the first one that's brought a sword. This should be _fun_!"

Anger burned within her, but she did not let it mar her face, choosing to let it escape only through her bright blue eyes.

"Is this some kind of game to you?"

Finally, Samael found herself face to face with the demon she had been created to destroy. The first thing she noticed was the dagger in his hand. Currently, the weapon lay harmlessly at his side, but she had a sneaking suspicion that it could find its way to her in the blink of an eye if she wasn't careful.

The next thing she noticed was Crowley's expression. His glasses were still secured tightly over his eyes, but that didn't prevent the rest of his face from contorting with emotion. Samael had expected to see anger or hatred or even something along the lines of disgust. Instead, she was met with a demon in complete and total shock. She watched dumbfounded as the knife slipped out of Crowley's hand and clattered to the ground.

"Aziraphale?"

No sooner had the word left his lips than Samael was hit with a wave of emotions so strong it nearly knocked her off her feet. She staggered, bracing herself against the brick wall beside her as a torrent of grief and hope and despair and confusion and love hit her all at once.

Angels were built to be empathetic. They could sense the feelings of those around them - especially feelings of love. Samael had experienced a great deal of love in Heaven, but never anything like this. Heaven's love was gentle and warm. It filled her with a sense of peace and belonging. This love was all consuming. It was passion and fire and a desperate _need_ she had never felt before and she was drowning in it.

How a demon could feel such things, she did not know.

"What is this?" she managed to hiss out. Her vision swam before her as the angel tried to get a grip on what was going on around her, but she couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. Tears were running down her face and she had no idea how to stop them. She was going to die and the demon hadn't laid a finger on her. "What have you done to me?"

Abruptly, the emotions vanished and he was on her, pressing her back up against the brick wall, arm against her throat. Wings flew out behind her as she struggled to break free, but she was pinned, barely able to breathe. He had picked up the dagger again and it was hovering dangerously in front of her. The glasses were gone and Samael could see absolute fury reflected in his eyes. Her window was gone. She'd lost her chance.

"Who _are_ you?" the demon spat in her face. Samael did not turn away.

"I am the Angel Samael. Your actions have been deemed unforgivable. I was created by the Archangels to destroy you."

Something flickered in his eyes. A sudden understanding. She could see everything reflected in those amber pools. Despair, resignation, and unbridled fury. It was a calm fury and that terrified Samael more than she thought possible.

"They dare - " Crowley was talking to himself now, struggling to put words to his emotions. "After _everything_." Tears pooled in his eyes and she watched as he blinked them back furiously.

Despite everything, the angel knew she couldn't give up. Not yet. Letting out a cry, she lunged forward, flapping her wings in the demon's face to try and disorient him. Crowley dropped quickly to the ground, lashing out at her legs with his blade. Samael dodged to the side, narrowly missing the tip of the knife. She pivoted to try and get a better angle on him and then cried out in pain as his free hand burrowed into her wings.

Crowley knew what he was doing. He knew exactly how sensitive an Angel's wings were and he used that to his advantage. Once again, the angel found herself pinned up against the wall, this time with her face pressed roughly against the brick. The knife hovered just behind the back of her neck, but she noticed he was careful not to bring it too close.

"You tell the Archangels that I'll be coming for them," the demon growled. His breath was hot against her neck and Samael felt like her skin was beginning to burn with the close proximity. "You tell them that there will be no forgiveness. You _tell_ them that their tricks are not enough to stop me. I. Will. Destroy. Them."

Pain suddenly erupted in her body as Crowley moved his hand, breaking her wing as if were nothing more than a toothpick. Tears spilled over her eyelids and onto her cheeks. Her back was on fire. It was pain unlike anything she had ever known.

_Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop._

The words ran like a cadence through her mind. She was screaming and sobbing and no one was listening. She was all alone.

His hands switched to her other wing and she could feel the demon's lips brushing up against her ear. "You will be the lasssst of them to die," he hissed. "It'sss really no fault of your own, but sssssince when hasss that ever mattered? I will destroy every lasssst one of the angels in Heaven and then, only then, will I come for you."

Crowley paused, moving a hand to caress her cheek ever so slightly. She could still see his eyes from this position, even pressed up against the wall as she was. There was nothing. The golden eyes had gone completely dead. The demon's face was stone cold. Unmoving. Unfeeling.

He broke her other wing and then the world went dark.


	5. Chapter 5

They met in the lobby on the first floor. It was the easiest place for a demon and an angel to meet, after all. Neither one really wanted to visit the other in their respective offices, and Earth was far too messy these days for a proper discussion. And they had much to discuss.

Gabriel miracled two chairs into existence and offered one to Beelzebub, Prince of Hell as they ascended the stairs and moved to stand by his side. The demon raised a hand in polite declination.

"Now izz not the time for pleazantries, Gabriel," they buzzed, clear agitation written all over their face. "We have a criziz on our handzz."

"Quite right," Gabriel agreed. With a quick flick of his wrist, the chairs were gone. He straightened his tie and looked down at the slightly shorter demon. "I believe this has gone far enough. Your operative is out of control."

"Our operative?" Beelzebub growled. "He hazzn't been _our _operative in yearz. The baztard'z gone native! Hell holdz no power over him anymore."

Gabriel sighed, trying desperately to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Surely there's something you can do? He's killing Angels, for crying out loud! Doesn't your side have rules about that sort of thing?"

Beelzebub rolled their eyes. "Were you not lizzening? He'z not on our side anymore! He'z on hiz own side. We can't control him. You saw what happened the lazt time we tried. Thatz what started thiz whole mezz in the firzt place!"

"Fine," the Archangel huffed, crossing his arms over his chest like a spoiled child. "So Holy Water doesn't affect him. That doesn't mean that nothing else can harm him. There must be _something _that can bring him down."

The pair were silent for a while, each absorbed in their own thoughts. This was a problem the likes of which they'd never seen before. Neither Heaven nor Hell knew what to do, it seemed.

"What about discorporation?" Gabriel asked halfheartedly. He had no real faith it would work, but it seemed like he and the demon were out of ideas. "If we managed to discorporate him, would he be stuck down in Hell?"

Beelzebub shook their head. "No guaranteezz it would work, even if one of uz could get cloze enough to do the deed. With Holy Water having no effect, I fear Hell will not be able to hold him anymore."

More silence. Gabriel struggled with what to say. It shouldn't be this difficult! He was an Archangel, for Someone's sake! He should be able to protect those that looked up to him. How _dare_ the demon take that away from him!

"Didn't your lot have a plan?" Beelzebub asked when the air around them became stale. "What happened with that?"

Gabriel grimaced. There was no point in hiding things from his counterpart. As much as he despised the thought, he needed Beelzebub's help. "That uh, didn't go quite according to plan. It's not a complete loss, but there will be some time before she'll be strong enough to go after him again. He did quite a bit of damage."

Beelzebub's eyebrow raised ever so slightly. "He didn't outright kill her?"

"No." The angel paused, wondering just how much he should reveal of their plan. "He was furious, though."

The demon chuckled darkly. "He'z been furiouz for yearzz. What elze could you pozzibly have done?"

Gabriel offered no response. There was no reason for him to feel guilty - Crowley deserved everything that he'd gotten. And still...the Archangel felt an uncomfortable pressure in his chest. He just wanted this over and done with so he could get back to managing Heaven. The humans were enough trouble to deal with on their own. No need to throw a bloodthirsty demon into the mix.

"What did you do?" The question sent a shiver down the Angel's spine. Beelzebub was angry. And he knew from experience that they would not let up until he told the truth.

"See for yourself."

Deep within the pockets of his coat, Gabriel pulled out a single sheet of paper, the size of a small photograph. It was blank now, but the moment Beelzebub's hand came into contact, an image of an angel slowly came into existence.

For a while, there was only silence. That was almost worse for the Archangel. He _wanted _his counterpart to pick a fight. He needed some kind of outlet to get these feelings out in the open. If he didn't, Gabriel feared they would consume him.

"Are you _fucking inzane_?" The demon was buzzing furiously, their entire body vibrating with shock and anger. "What would pozzezz you to _do _thiz? Doez your thick head not comprehend why we're in this mezz in the firzt place?"

"I know why we're here!" Gabriel shouted back. He wanted to say so much more, but realized that screaming at the Prince of Hell wouldn't solve anything. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingertips. "We thought that if she looked like _him, _Crowley would hesitate to harm her. We thought it would give her the opportunity to finish the job."

A disbelieving snort pierced through the air around them. "And how did that work out for you?"

"He didn't kill her," Gabriel snapped back. "We still have a chance, we just need more time!"

He thought the demon would continue the argument, but Beelzebub simply stood there quietly, staring off into the distance. There was an air of defeat around them, as if there was no further point to arguing. As if both sides had already dug their graves. All there was left to do was lie in them.

"He'z going to kill uz all," Beelzebub murmured softly. The sorrow in their voice caught Gabriel off guard. Was the demon upset? He couldn't imagine living the life they did and actually wanting it to continue. What sort of life was it without Heaven? How could anyone be happy in a place like Hell?

"I bet your side will get off a little lighter than ours," the Archangel supplied, wondering why he was trying to make the demon feel better. Did he really feel responsible for what had happened? He and Beelzebub had made the decision together, hadn't they?

A soft sigh escaped the demon's lips. "You ztill don't get it, do you?"

Gabriel waited patiently, wondering what in the world Beelzebub had meant by that statement. Of course he 'got it'. There was a demon on the loose with a vendetta against all of Heaven. He couldn't be killed by Holy Water or Hellfire or any other manner of celestial power that they had found so far. This was a serious situation! How could he possibly _not _get it.

"_Both _sidez partizipated. _Both _of uz made that decizion fifteen yearz ago." Beelzebub stopped for a moment, clasping their hands resolutely behind their back, eyes still fixed firmly in front of them. "You could say we got lucky Crowley choze to sleep for so long afterward, but the truth of the matter izz - he'z awake now. He blames Heaven and Hell for thizz and haz dezided to enact hiz own retribution."

"But he can't _do _that!" Gabriel snarled, fists clenching at his sides. "He has no right - "

"Who izz going to stop him?" the demon questioned, shutting down their counterpart's argument mid sentence. "Hell can't do anything about it. Heaven certainly tried. And it iz clear by now that _She _izn't stepping in to patch thingz up. We are on our own. Heaven. _And _Hell."

A sinking feeling entered Gabriel's stomach as the true weight of the demon's words finally reached him. The room suddenly felt much colder.

"You don't mean…"

"Yez," Beelzebub nodded, never once meeting Gabriel's gaze. "Angelz aren't the only ones Crowley haz gone after. He haz started killing demonz too."

* * *

Down on Earth, in a small town several dozen miles north of London, a teenage boy sat alone in his bedroom. It was the middle of the night and by all rights he should have been asleep a long time ago. In his defense, the boy _had _been asleep up until about twenty minutes prior when he had awoken from a very unsettling dream.

He supposed, by now, the dreams shouldn't be as unsettling. The boy had been having them for as long as he could remember. Sure, the location changed, and sometimes the general theme, but it always centered around the same man - tall, dressed in all black, with flaming red hair and a pair of sunglasses always perched on his nose.

This man was a stranger to the boy, but that didn't stop him from dreaming of him almost every night. In the dreams, it was always the two of them. Sometimes they went for a walk in the park, stopping to feed the ducks along their way. Other times they spent time in lovely conversation over dinner. Quite often, the dreams took place in a dusty old bookshop where he and the man would share a glass of wine and an evening of pleasant company.

Perfectly manicured hands slid across the boy's desk as he reached for an eraser. In front of him sat a piece of paper with a half-finished drawing. He'd been working on it for the better part of two days and the image was finally starting to take shape.

It was an image of the inside of the church. The viewer was standing up at the altar, looking toward the back of the sanctuary where a large window sat, moonlight spilling in through its stained glass. Light streamed in through the window, illuminating the stone pillars that lined the edge of the room. Tiny candles sat at the edge of each pew and brought a warmth to the place that otherwise might not have been there.

A single man stood at the end of the aisle, dressed in all black with a wide rimmed hat. Even from a distance, his signature sunglasses could be seen. The boy leaned forward and added some detailed lines to the closest pews, giving them a wooden-like texture. He smiled to himself in amusement as he looked down at the man he had drawn. It was almost as if the boy could picture him practically hopping down the aisle, like the ground beneath his feet were hot like lava. How ridiculous.

"Will?"

A voice from his doorway startled the boy. He nearly jumped out of his seat, colored pencils flying across the room.

"S-sorry, Dad," he stuttered, leaning down to pick them up. "You surprised me."

The older man blinked several times, reaching a hand up to readjust his bedrobe. "What are you doing up, Will? It's the middle of a school night."

"I know." Will couldn't help the blush that was rising to his cheeks. He hastily moved his art supply tin to partially obscure the drawing beneath him. "Sorry. I just - I had a bad dream, is all. And drawing helps calm me down. Let me just finish this last bit and I'll go back to sleep. Promise."

His father simply grunted in agreement and closed the door behind him. Footsteps echoed in the hallway until they grew too distant to hear. When Will was sure he had gone, he removed the metal tin and looked down at the picture below.

"Who are you?" he whispered to it, as if the man in the drawing could just hop out and answer all his burning questions. Glancing at the door once more, Will reached down and opened the top drawer in his desk, pulling out several more bits of paper.

There were nearly a dozen drawings of the same man. Will had more hidden away in a notebook under his bed, but these were the safest to have around in case his mother or father went snooping. At least these drawings didn't show his obsession quite so obviously. There was nothing wrong with drawing a nice spring day at the park or a sunset picnic. What did it matter if that mysterious man made a cameo in all the drawings? Will couldn't be faulted for that.

He felt a pang of guilt and sorrow enter his heart. There was probably something wrong with him. So far, Will had done his best to hide what was happening from his parents. There was no reason to worry them. After all, he was still getting decent grades in school and the dreams weren't affecting his personal life. At least, that was what he kept telling himself.

The truth was, each morning when he woke up, Will had to fight down a fresh wave of tears. Every so often, when his parents would catch him hastily wiping them away, he would chalk it up to a "bad dream" and leave it at that.

Will hated lying to his parents, but didn't know what else to do. How could he possibly explain to them that the dreams were the most wonderful things he had ever experienced? When he slept, this man - this _stranger_ \- filled a hole within him Will hadn't even known he'd had. In his dreams, he felt joy and warmth and affection and _love_, unlike any he had experienced in the waking world. How did he convey the heartache he felt everytime he awoke to find that the man was not only gone, but never even really existed? He was just a figment of Will's imagination and nothing more.


	6. Chapter 6

When Samael awoke, she found herself lying comfortably on a bed with no recollection of how she'd gotten there. Immediately, she knew she was still on Earth. Beds didn't exist in Heaven. There was no need for them there. She was in a room with a bed, a dresser and a bookshelf lined with a multitude of books. She was alone.

"Hello?" she called out, shifting to sit up. That had been a mistake. Pain washed through her and she cried out, falling back onto the pillows. She heard a thud sound on the other side of the door and Samael felt her heart spike. There was someone else here. Was it Crowley? Or perhaps a human? Her wings were out! If a human walked through that door, they would see her in her true form!

What could she do? There was no sword in sight, not that it would have helped her much. She could barely sit up in bed without blacking out from the pain. Handling a weapon was out of the question.

The door burst open and Samael found herself face to face with a very bizarrely dressed, very anxious looking Archangel.

"Remiel?" she asked, immediately relaxing back into the bed. She winced as pain shot up her wings, but did her best to hold in the scream this time. "What are you doing here? What am I doing here? Where's Crowley? What happened? One minute we were fighting and the next - "

He was by her side in an instant, taking a seat in the chair that Samael hadn't even realized was there beside the bed. An electrifying tingle shot up her arm as the Archangel took her hand in his. She stiffened for a moment, expecting the sensation to hurt. When it didn't, she smiled softly, her blue eyes gazing up at his brown ones, swimming with emotion.

"Everything's ok," Remiel began, his thumb beginning to trace small circles against the back of her hand. "There's no need for you to get worked up."

"But Crowley, he - "

Remiel shushed her, leaning in to brush a strand of hair away from her face. Before their confrontation, she had made sure to pin it all back, just like Uriel and Michael had taught her. Some of the blonde curls must have slipped out while she and the demon had been fighting.

"I will fill you in on what happened, Samael," he began, voice soft and low. Samael watched as his eyes drifted from hers to the wings currently splayed out beside her. His brown eyes were glistening. Almost as if he were about to cry. "But before I do, I need you to promise me something."

Taking a deep breath, he continued. "I need you to promise to remain still, ok? You were hurt, very badly and - " the angel's voice hitched, getting caught in his throat. Samael felt her heart clench in sorrow, but she said nothing. "I just need you not to move for now. You have to let yourself heal. Can you promise me that? Please?"

He sounded so desperate. Was he afraid she was going to do something rash and injure herself even further? Samael could barely move. What could she possibly do that would cause her friend so much worry?

"I promise, Remiel."

The Archangel released a breath of air he'd been holding in. He then proceeded to tell her exactly what had happened.

Crowley had broken her wings. Both of them had been snapped at the base, clean in two. The pain of it all had caused her to pass out before anyone could get to her. Remiel had appeared a few moments after she had collapsed. The sheer power of his holy wrath had been enough to startle the demon. It had been enough of a distraction to allow Remiel the chance to grab her and flee to safety.

There was something hovering around in her mind - a memory that Samael couldn't quite place - that told her Crowley wouldn't have killed her in that moment. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out why.

"Where are we, exactly?" Samael wondered aloud, looking around the room for a second time. There was nothing distinguishable here to help her identify whose house this was or why they had come here. She took another look at Remiel, still entirely confused by his attire. Instead of the white robe she was so used to seeing, he was dressed in a pair of light brown pants and a faded blue button up shirt.

_Khakis, _her mind supplied. The pants were called khakis.

Samael glowered. Of course her mind would help fill in the least important gaps first. She could come up with the name for fancy pants no problem, but could barely remember anything about her interaction with Crowley. He had said something before he'd attacked her. Something _important. _It had been a word she hadn't recognized. A name, perhaps? Or an ancient prayer? She couldn't imagine a situation where a demon would choose to pray, but Crowley wasn't like other demons. That much had been established already.

"We're at a house about a dozen miles north of Central London," Remiel explained, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. "My house actually."

She didn't understand. "Why do you have a house? And why are you wearing those clothes? You look ridiculous. You look like - "

"A human?" he supplied.

It suddenly all made sense. The house, the clothes, how Remiel had been right there moments after she'd fallen. Splints had already been applied to her wings and the scrape on her face had been bandaged. Samael couldn't believe she hadn't seen it earlier.

"You prepared for this?" she asked incredulously. "You knew I was going to get hurt?"

Remiel shook his head. "I feared we would be forced to send you in too early. I wanted to have a place ready for us to go in case - well, in case…"

He couldn't finish the thought. Tears pooled in his eye and Remiel looked away. Samael immediately felt guilty for making him feel bad. All he had ever done was care for her.

"Remiel," the name flowed from her lips, soft and gentle. She lifted a hand to his cheek, bringing his eyes up to meet hers. "Thank you. For saving me. And for taking care of me. I couldn't have asked for anyone better at my side."

This caused the Archangel to smile - really smile. Samael smiled back. She was going to be alright. Of course, she would need some time to heal. But once she was back on track, she would find that demon and -

"Oh!" she exclaimed, heart filling with dread. She had suddenly remembered something Crowley had said to her. "He said something - a message." Samael clutched at her head as if it hurt to remember. "For Gabriel. We need to get back to Heaven! I need to talk to him - to tell him - "

"Samael."

The sound of her name brought the angel back into the present moment. "You needn't worry about that now. Focus on the healing. We can deal with the demon another day."

What was with Remiel and her being healed? They could just pop on back up to Heaven, miracle her bones back together, and she would be good as new.

Remiel seemed to almost read her thoughts. The next words out of his mouth caused her blood to run cold.

"Samael, we can't go back to Heaven. Gabriel has shut the doors."

Impossible. The doors to Heaven couldn't be shut. The whole point of heaven was to be always open, always inviting, always welcoming. People died every day. Where would they go if Heaven closed its pearly gates?

She wanted to ask about the humans - wanted to make sure this hadn't been a mistake. The Archangels had to know how wrong this was. They couldn't shut out millions of souls because of the threat of one demon. They couldn't.

Instead, she found herself asking: "We can't go back...ever?" The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. Stupid, she scolded. Selfish. This wasn't about her. It had never been about her.

"The plan is for you and I to stay here on Earth as you recover. We will need to blend in - not draw attention to ourselves. That means no miracles, from either of us. You and I will effectively be humans until you're strong enough to confront the demon again. Is that understood?"

Samael nodded. She felt terrible, like she had failed and now the humans were cut off from Heaven and it was all her fault. If she had just taken the window when she'd had the chance. Why hadn't she done anything? She'd been frozen in what, shock? The memory was fuzzy and didn't make a lot of sense. Had she hit her head during the fight?

"Stop that," Remiel chided, squeezing her hand lightly with his. Heat rose to her cheeks as Samael realized how selfish she was being. "You are not to blame yourself, understood? If anyone is to blame it is us. We failed to properly prepare you. But that won't happen again. I promise."

She nodded, a sudden weariness settling in her bones. Samael tried her best to stifle a yawn, but her companion saw right through her act.

"Get some rest. We can talk more when you wake up." He leaned in and gently placed a kiss on her forehead, a strand of his black hair escaping from the rest. It tickled her nose and she resisted the urge to sneeze.

"Remiel?" she asked as he turned to leave. The Archangel turned around and gazed back at her. The warmth shining in his eyes reminded her of something, but she couldn't figure out what. "Thank you."

He had given up everything to stay with her. He'd left Heaven and the other Archangels to live in an unfamiliar place with an angel that could barely walk let alone do anything to care for herself. She would be forever indebted to him.

"You're welcome," he murmured before shutting the door gently behind him.


	7. Chapter 7

Out of all the days in the week, Mondays were the ones where churches were most likely to be left unattended. He never really had a reason to think about it before, but Crowley supposed it made sense. After the craziness that was Sunday, everyone was likely to want a day off afterward to recover and prepare for the next week.

He wasn't sure when churches had started locking their doors. The demon had made it a habit to stay as far away from them whenever possible. And except for that one time, he'd accomplished just that. The past year, however, had found him frequenting them more and more often. They were always locked. Something about being in the city and worrying about the nature of humanity had caused the one place that should be a sanctuary for all to become cold and empty and inaccessible.

Wasn't that just the way of things.

Early Monday afternoon, the demon Crowley found himself sitting in the front pew of a church that had been built sometime in the 19th century. Probably during one of the years he'd slept through. The door had been locked, like it always was, but that had been no barrier for him. It took much more than a simple mechanical lock to keep out a demon.

Crowley sat with his head in his hands, elbows resting against his knees. A pair of sunglasses lay at his side. Amber eyes stared at the stone floor, memorizing the pattern of erratic cracks that time had bestowed upon it. To any outsider, it would look as if he were praying. Maybe he was. Did it count as praying if he knew no one was listening?

The pain in his feet was dull. This was consecrated ground, after all. No matter what had happened, he was still a demon - at least partly. This feeling was different than what he'd felt all those years ago. Back then, the ground had burned. The heat had seeped into his shoes and scorched the bottoms of his feet. The holiness had left a mark that had taken weeks to heal. The pain he felt now was like the ghost of a memory. He knew from experience that when he returned home, there would be no mark. At least, not one that was visible.

For the longest time, Crowley sat there in silence. He did not worry about being seen here. No one that could see him would think to look for him here. Not even that new angel. The one he'd -

Crowley's stomach lurched uncomfortably. Had he gone too far this time? Impossible, wasn't it? He'd killed seven angels and nearly as many demons so far and had hardly batted an eye. Breaking a pair of wings could be considered an act of mercy compared to what he'd done to the others. He paused. Unlike them, she hadn't deserved it, had she? She was a child compared to the rest of them. Innocent and ignorant and purer than they'd ever be. Just like someone else he'd known.

How much had she known when she confronted him? Crowley knew, deep down in his core, that the Archangels had not told her the entire truth. That would involve admitting to what they'd done, and they would never do that. She'd seemed familiar enough with his actions. After all, she'd claimed they were unforgivable.

_She's right_, a small voice echoed in his mind. _What you've done is unforgivable. You are unforgivable._

Had they told her about what _they'd _done? That _their _actions were also unforgivable? Maybe even more so, he could argue.

A pang of grief coursed through his body. Tears began to fall and the demon let them. He'd thought by now his body would have run out, but they kept coming. Day after day, week after week. The flood never stopped except for when he slept. Even then, he was plagued with dreams of an angel he couldn't seem to forget. Forgetting _him_ was something Crowley longed for and feared at the same time. What a fucking mess he was.

"Please…" the word slipped past his lips, echoing in the holy space around him. Pain began to build within him, crashing against his heart like waves against a rocky shoreline. "Please. Make it stop. Bring him back. Make me forget. Let me talk to him, one last time." It didn't matter what he said. It didn't matter how many options he gave Her. Silence was his only companion. Now and for the rest of eternity.

"Why did you let them take him away?"

Soft pattering sounded on the rooftop high above him. Was it supposed to rain today? Crowley never really paid much attention to the weather these days. Without his reason for going outside to enjoy the day, what was the point?

"Why did you keep me from going with him?"

Question after question came bubbling to the surface. The demon did nothing to hold them back. He'd never been afraid to ask questions. That was what had gotten him in this mess of a life to begin with. No point in stopping now.

"Is it because he was an angel and I'm a - if I'm still here because of some _twisted _notion that my feelings for him were anything less, than that's _fucking bullshit._ I don't care how many angels say that demons are incapable of love. They're wrong. They don't know how it feels. None of them do! They didn't love him like I did. They never came close. They -" Crowley's breath hitched in his throat as he struggled to breath. The emotions inside of him were overwhelming.

"They fucking _murdered_ him!"

The words echoed against the stone walls, drifting up to the arched ceiling. For a moment, they reverberated around him and then the all familiar silence took over. Briefly, the demon pictured the sound rising up higher, drifting over the London skyline and vanishing into another realm where _She_ might actually hear it. He didn't know which was worse, the thought that the Almighty was busy doing what She did and didn't know what had happened to one of her beloved children, or the thought that she did know - she had known - and had done nothing to stop it.

"Either way," the demon whispered, more to himself than to anyone who may or may not be listening. "I'll never forgive you."

Crowley had never felt so alone.

No more words were spoken. He sat there for a few moments longer until the tears had stopped falling. Silently, he stood up and walked over to the altar at the front of the room. He didn't kneel. He didn't present an offering. Crowley simply stepped over the threshold and over to the ornate font tucked away in the corner. Unlike some of the others he had seen, this one had a brass lid with a small cross-shaped handle at the top. It was quickly removed to reveal the blessed liquid underneath.

Less than a century ago, the demon had been making plans to rob this very church, just to get his hands on a few drops of this stuff. He'd never gone through with it, of course. His angel had come through for him.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, Crowley pulled out a single tartan thermos. Gently, he unscrewed the cap and lowered the container into the water. Images of neon lights, the inside of the Bentley, and the soft, sad smile of an angel filled his mind. If he couldn't forget, at least the memories weren't fading with time.

_You go to fast for me, Crowley._

He had gone too fast. If he had slowed down, would Aziraphale still be alive? If he had been content with simply the angel's friendship, would he still be able to see that bright, gorgeous smile every day?

Crowley had been a fool to believe Heaven would show them mercy. He had wanted to believe, though, _so much_. Aziraphale believed. Even after all they had been through during the Apocalypse, Aziraphale believed there was Goodness in Heaven.

Once the thermos was filled to the brim, Crowley removed it from the font and screwed the cap back on. He watched as trickles of holy water ran down his hands, dripping off the tips of his fingers, not leaving a single mark on his fair skin.


	8. Chapter 8

"Just get it over with already," Samael huffed as she gazed back at Remiel in the mirror. He was currently standing behind her with a pair of scissors brushing the back of her neck. She shivered as the cold metal touched her skin. "It's like you said before, it'll grow back."

"Right," the Archangel muttered to himself as he opened the blades and placed them around her soft golden curls. "It'll be over in a jiffy. Don't you worry about that."

"I'm not worried," Samael pointed out as the first few snips filled the room. She resisted the urge to turn around and look at the pile of hair growing on the bathroom floor. "You're the one who's not inspiring a lot of confidence here."

They'd been stuck on Earth together for almost a month now. Everything apart from her wings had healed and they'd finally reached a point where she'd been able to tuck them away from prying eyes. The young angel was getting restless. She wanted to get outside the house and explore Earth more. They were stuck here, weren't they? Might as well make the most of a bad situation.

Remiel had initially not been a fan of letting her leave the house. He'd protested vehemently against it until she had pointed out that they'd have to leave eventually and wouldn't it be best if she learned as much as possible before confronting Crowley again. He'd finally agreed, but compromises had been made.

"I'm not sure if this will be enough," Remiel remarked as he made his last snip. Samael's head felt ten times lighter now that her hair fell just above her shoulder blades. "You still look the same."

"Well," the angel began, chewing at the inner part of her lip. "What else do you have in that bag?" They'd spent the better part of a week researching the various ways humans employed disguises culminating in Remiel making a trip to the store and returning with a bag filled with various beauty items and a DVD copy of The Fugitive. They'd watched it seven times so far.

Rustling filled her ears as the Archangel began to rummage through his supplies. Moments later, he pulled out a few boxes and placed them on the bathroom sink in front of her.

"Contact lenses?" she asked, picking up the box and turning it around in her hands. "What are these for?"

In the mirror, she caught a faint blush creeping up on the Archangel's cheeks. He looked suddenly very uncomfortable. "Your eyes. They're uh - very recognizable. You can wear those to change the color of your eyes."

She nodded in understanding. "Why did you get so many boxes?" There were three of them currently sitting on the counter. Samael suspected even more sat untouched in the bag.

"I got you different colors. So you could pick your favorite."

A soft smile appeared on her lips as she looked up into Remiel's reflection. Reaching for the box labeled 'brown', she swiftly began to unpackage them.

"Brown?" He seemed surprised. "I would have thought you would have gone for something more interesting. Wouldn't you rather try out green? Or hazel? Even a different shade of blue would do the trick."

Samael shook her head and unfolded the directions that came with the box, studying the simple image on the page to be sure she put them in right. "I like brown," she stated simply.

If she hadn't been so preoccupied with putting the new lenses in, Samael might have noticed Remiel's cheeks turn bright red.

"What do you think?" she asked after blinking a few times to let her eyes adjust. She turned her body so Remiel was in her line of sight. He was staring at her with a look in his eyes that brought a sudden warmth to her chest. Samael couldn't help but smile.

"Lovely."

Suddenly feeling the need to look anywhere else but at the Archangel, Samael turned her attention to another box sitting on the countertop. On it was the image of a human female with locks of long black hair.

"Oh," Remiel interrupted, reaching for the box to take it out of her hands. "You don't have to use that if you don't want to. I just grabbed it, well, in the movie Richard Kimble dyes his hair while on the run, and I just thought - "

"It's a wonderful idea!" Samael praised. She didn't understand why Remiel was second guessing himself all of a sudden. It wasn't as if she had any particular attachment to the way she looked. Changing her appearance would help keep them both safe in case they had an unexpected run in with Crowley. Donning black hair and darker eyes would also help her look more like the Archangel who had chosen to stand by her side through all of this - the Archangel who, for the foreseeable future, would be pretending to be her human older brother. "Help me figure it out?"

Several hours later, Samael had changed from a blue eyed, blonde haired angel into brown eyes and much shorter black hair. It still had its curl, but the shorter length gave her hair a different shape. She stared at herself in the mirror for several minutes, scrutinizing every last detail. The angel felt like she looked different, but would it be enough? Could she pass as a human if Crowley were to spot her in a crowd? Or would she be outed for the celestial being that she was?

Downstairs, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" Samael called before Remiel could do a single thing to react. She bolted out of the bedroom door, practically hurdling herself down the stairs. Only when she reached the door and wrenched it open did the angel realize that _anyone_ could have been at that door. Gabriel or Beelzebub or Crowley himself. She should really be more careful.

Their guest was none of those people. As the door swung open, Samael found herself face to face with a teenage girl. She was tall and willowy and had dark skin and hair strung in dozens of braids piled atop her head.

Upon seeing Samael, the girl smiled and stuck out her hand. "Hi! You must be Sam. My name is Ann Marie. I'm your next door neighbor. I came by earlier last week but your brother said you were feeling a bit under the weather. Glad to see your back on your feet!"

For a moment, Samael said nothing. Her brain was trying and failing to process all the new information coming at her. This girl, a _human_ girl, had been by the house already. She had talked to Remiel. Remiel had mentioned Samael, but had called her Sam. He'd introduced himself as her brother. And this girl, Ann Marie, had been under the impression that Samael had been sick, and then came back later to check in on her and introduce herself. Why?

"Uhh," Samael murmured, eyeing the outstretched hand cautiously. What was she supposed to do with that? "Hi. Nice to meet you."

"Sam," she heard Remiel call from the kitchen. "Is that Ann Marie at the door? Why don't you invite her in?"

"Sure," Samael said, stepping aside to let the taller girl walk past her. Remiel's strange nickname for her still bouncing around in her head. "Sorry."

"I'm making some snacks," Remiel continued as Samael shut the door behind them. "Do you girls want any?"

Ann Marie veered off course, heading toward the sound of the Archangel's voice. Samael followed quietly behind. She hadn't been in the kitchen yet other than to just poke her head in and see what it looked like. The first few weeks had been spent entirely in bed. Only now that her wings had been healed enough to tuck in had she been able to get up and explore the rest of the house.

Angels didn't need to eat. Neither did angels pretending to be humans, so Samael had never had much reason to spend in the kitchen. What was Remiel doing in there? Was he...cooking something? Remiel didn't know how to cook. Why would he need to? And where had he even gotten any food to begin with?

"We've been a bit busy with the move," she heard him explaining as Ann Marie sat down at a stool by the countertop. "So I haven't had a chance to go to the market yet this week. But I've got cheese and crackers and some fruit if you girls want some."

"Thanks, Mr. Everly," Ann Marie mentioned before grabbing a handful of purple balls and placing one into her mouth.

_Grapes. _The human was eating a bunch of grapes. Samael sighed, wondering if she would ever truly grasp this 'being human' thing. She felt like she was constantly a few steps behind where she needed to be.

"Please, dear. Call me Remiel."

That's right. Humans had multiple names. Samael wasn't entirely sure where the name 'Everly' had come from. Perhaps Remiel just liked it. She filed the information away in her mind, trying to commit to memory that her name was now Sam Everly.

She smiled. It had a nice ring to it.

"So, anyway," Ann Marie spoke up after she had finished chewing. Samael eyed the bowl of fruit carefully. Could she eat one? Would it hurt? The angel was curious, but something held her back. "I just came over to introduce myself to you, Sam. Remiel mentioned you were homeschooled, and since you guys just moved here, you probably haven't had a chance to make any new friends yet."

Friends. Samael smiled at the word. She was surprised to find how nice that concept sounded.

"Nice to meet you, Ann Marie," Samael said warmly, reaching out her hand like she'd seen the human do before. Ann Marie smiled back and took her hand, shaking it up and down slightly before letting go once more.

"There's a group of us getting together tomorrow night to hang out at the park, if you wanted to join. We'll have a ton of food and maybe play some tennis and have a jam session or something. It should be a lot of fun."

"Sure," Samael nodded, not exactly sure what 'tennis' or 'jam session' meant. "If that's alright with you?" she turned to ask Remiel. Technically, she didn't need his permission for anything, but Samael found herself wanting his approval. She would hate to do anything to upset him or make him worry.

"Absolutely," the Archangel agreed, and Samael felt herself sigh in relief. Excitement filled her as the thought of finally getting out of this house entered her mind. She was finally going to get to experience Earth for herself.

Ann Marie left after a little while, claiming that her mother was expecting her home for dinner. Once the front door had closed behind her, Samael looked up to find Remiel staring at her. A soft smile adorned his face and he was looking at her with amusement in his eyes.

"Just go ahead and eat one," he teased, gesturing to the bowl of grapes. Samael blushed, not realizing she'd been staring at them again. "You know you want to."

Reaching forward, she plucked one of the fruits from the vine and held it out in front of her, eyes narrowing in suspicion. Remiel snorted. "Come here."

She obeyed his request, moving to stand in front of him, between the stove and kitchen island. Remiel took the grape from her and held it out between them.

"Close your eyes." Samael did as she was told, letting the familiar darkness fill her senses. She breathed in, savoring the scents around her. The sharp wood of the cottage walls. The sweet flowers that sat in a vase beside her. The indescribable and unmistakable smell that was Remiel. Her stomach flipped in an uncomfortable, but not unpleasant way.

"Relax." Samael could hear the gentleness in his voice as something cold brushed up against her lips. Reflexively, the angel parted her mouth to let the fruit in. It was smooth and harder than she expected it to be. Other than the small weight on her tongue, she didn't feel any different.

"Bite down on it."

The moment she did, a whole new world of sensations opened themselves to her. Electricity shot through her mouth and up the back of her neck to the top of her head. New words like _sweet _and _sour_ and _delicious_ filled her mind as she chewed. A soft moan escaped her lips and Samael opened her eyes. Remiel was still gazing down at her, his face lit up with a wide smile.

"This is amazing!" she exclaimed, a sudden feeling of happiness overwhelming her. Emotions were still so new to her and Samael didn't know what to do. Without permission from her mind, the angel felt her arms reaching up of their own accord, wrapping around Remiel's neck in a gesture that made her heart flutter.

_A hug._ Before she had time to register the word, Remiel was hugging her back.

"I knew you'd like it," he murmured into her ear, sending tingles down her spine. Samael smiled, trying desperately to wrap her head around this new sensation inside of her. After a few moments, she pulled back.

"Thank you." She'd been saying that to him a lot these days.

"What shall we do now?" The Archangel asked, taking a step back. "Would you like to experience more food? I could try and cook us something. Or does a movie night sound nice? If you wanted, I suppose we could go for a walk outside before it gets dark."

If she were being honest, all of those things sounded wonderful to Samael. She wanted to experience it all and even though she was an immortal being, there was a very clear time limit in which to do so. The longer she and Remiel stayed here on Earth, the more of a threat Crowley would become. So, while her wings were still healing, they had time to experience whatever she wanted.

That was just it, though, wasn't it? It was always what _she _wanted. Remiel had been nothing but kind to her for the month they'd been on their own. He'd put her needs first in everything he had done, even in inviting Ann Marie over because he _knew _how much Samael wanted to experience humanity and he _knew _how important the aspect of friendship was to that.

When had she ever stopped to ask herself what he wanted? Surely, he was terribly homesick by now. He had spent over 6,000 years in Heaven. It was his home. She'd lived there for a fraction of the time he had, and Samael's heart ached whenever she thought of it. The pain must be so much worse for Remiel.

So what was it that he wanted to do? The Archangel would never tell her outright, not even if she asked him. He was too kind for that. She would have to figure it out on her own.

"I think a movie night sounds wonderful."

The look on his face in that moment filled Samael with a sensation she couldn't explain. Somehow, without any words spoken between them, she knew she had made the right choice.

"Can we watch something other than The Fugitive?" she asked, following the Archangel into the living room where their television was currently set up. "I do want to experience as much as Earth has to offer, you know."

Remiel laughed. "Why don't you pick the movie this time. I'll go get us some snacks."

"Grapes?" Samael asked hopefully as she walked over to the cabinet housing their collection of movies. She wondered if Remiel had purchased all of these himself or if he had simply miracled them into existence months ago when he had been preparing this place for them.

"I think popcorn is considered a more movie friendly snack, my dear," he responded, brown eyes shining in the dim light. They hadn't bothered to turn the lights on. Viewing movies was made much better in the dark. "But I will be happy to get you whatever you like."

"Popcorn sounds good." Anything would have sounded good to her at this point. Everything was so completely new, and here in this cottage several miles north of London, Samael could almost forget what she was supposed to be doing. Here, while her body was focused on healing, she could let herself experience all Earth had to offer. Even if their time here was short, the angel didn't care. She wanted to try it all.


	9. Chapter 9

Angels didn't sleep. They didn't need to, after all, so what was the point? Time could be much better spent doing other things: reading, training, spending time with friends. All of these things, Samael did often. Yet, she had spent a lot of time sleeping those first few weeks while she recovered from her injuries and the angel had grown used to it.

She didn't sleep every night, but often she found herself yawning out of habit several hours after the sun went down. Remiel never scolded her and often encouraged her to take time to rest.

"There's no need to push yourself so hard," he would say. "Take as much time as you need to get your strength back. We are safe here."

It had taken four whole months for her wings to heal completely. By then, the days were growing shorter and the nights colder. Autumn was upon them, bringing with it countless new wonders for the angel to experience. There were changing leaves and bonfires and _s'mores_. Pumpkin picking and pie baking. Samael loved it all.

She was happier than she had ever been. Without actually saying it, she could tell that Remiel was too. Back in Heaven, he'd always been so quiet and controlled. The only times she remembered him speaking were in the moments they spent together learning about humanity. Now, they were _here_, on Earth, learning and experiencing it all together. There was no Heaven, no Hell, no Crowley. They hadn't heard word from anyone in months. And everything was wonderful.

Except for when it wasn't. While Samael's days were full of joy and wonder, her nights were starting to be anything but.

The first nightmare came in the middle of October. She had spent the majority of the day outside with Ann Marie and some of her friends from school. Over the past four months, Samael had done her best to spend time with Ann Marie anytime the other girl invited her. She didn't go to school like the other humans did - it would be too taxing for her to try and blend in there.

Instead, Samael spent her days training. She studied various forms of combat, worked on improving her strength and endurance, read article after article of events that could possibly be attributed to demonic intervention. It was her own form of school and, unless Samael asked for his help, Remiel left her to it.

That day in particular had been a taxing one for her. Samael had gotten out of bed early and gone for a run with Ann Marie. The pair had started doing that together a few weeks before school had started and had enjoyed it so much they'd decided to continue. Ann Marie was _fun. _She was thoughtful and silly and really listened to people when they talked to her. Samael was glad that this girl had become her first human friend.

Ann Marie had been the one to invite her to come pumpkin picking that afternoon. As usual, Samael agreed without fully understanding what the activity would be. With Remiel's permission, she'd hopped into the seven passenger van with Ann Marie, her father, her younger sister, and two more girls she'd met a few times already. The six of them drove to a nearby orchard where the activity would commence.

It turned out that 'Pumpkin Picking' was a self-explanatory one. Unlike backpacking or tailgating, pumpkin picking was exactly what it sounded like. They'd spent about an hour in the fields choosing the best one before returning to Ann Marie's house to stab weird shapes into the orange flesh with knives.

_Carving. _That was the word the girls had used. They had been carving pumpkins. These pumpkins would then be set out on the porch so their light could be a beacon for children to come visit during the night of Tricks or Treats.

Humans and their weird customs.

Samael had been exhausted after a full day with the humans and had barely said a word to Remiel when she'd gotten home. The angel had made a beeline for her bedroom and was asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

When she opened her eyes again, it felt like no time had passed. Night had fallen and she was alone in her bedroom. The house was eerily quiet. So quiet, that her mind was instantly put on alert. Slowly, the angel crept out of bed and towards the upstairs hallway.

Almost instantly, she found herself outside in the front garden with no recollection of how she'd gotten there. That should have been her first clue, but Samael had never dreamed before. She didn't know what to expect.

"_Did you tell them?_" A voice hissed in her ear. Samael screamed and whirled around, but she was still alone. There was no sign of Remiel or Ann Marie or anyone else nearby. The angel shook her head, trying to still her rapidly beating heart.

"_I'm coming for them,_" the voice hissed again. Samael spun toward the sound and was still met with nothing.

"_I will destroy them all._" This time, when she turned, she saw something. A pair of golden snakelike eyes hovered ten feet in front of her. There was no face attached to them, no body to distinguish who they belonged to. Just a single pair of golden eyes, staring right into her soul.

The eyes narrowed, and suddenly there were hundreds of them, circling around her everywhere she looked. As they began to draw closer, bodies began to materialize around them. They were tall and thin and seemed to be made entirely of shadows. Samael tried to scream. She tried to run away, but her feet were like lead weights and her mouth couldn't seem to move.

One of the shadow men seemed to coalesce a few feet in front of her. She caught a familiar glimpse of red hair and a flash of sharp teeth. Her blood ran cold.

_Crowley._

Before she could even begin to summon her sword, he raised a hand and wagged his finger at her slowly. She blinked and Remiel was standing there in front of her, Crowley's arm wrapped around his throat, dagger pointing dangerously at his chest.

_No!_ She tried to scream, but the words wouldn't come. She felt the world spin around her as dozens and dozens of shadows descended upon Remiel. Hundreds of burning yellow eyes flashed in the darkness like twisted stars, staring hungrily at the Archangel as they tore into him. His screams echoed in the night and her heart broke in two. Samael screamed and screamed, but no sound came out. She felt as if she were drowning and on fire at the same time and no matter how hard she tried she couldn't shut her eyes and -

"Samael!"

She bolted upright, body shaking, sweat pouring down her face and her back and her sides. There was a hand resting on her shoulder and Samael grabbed for it, her vision still swimming in front of her, feeling as if the whole world was turning on its head.

"Let me go!" she screamed, fingernails latching into flesh as she ripped the hand away from her. "Let me go! Please! I have to - they're going to kill him, Please!"

Instead of letting go, the arm grabbed for her. She reached out with her fists and started hitting the closest thing to her with all her might. She wriggled and fought and screamed and the arms simply pulled her into a warm, comforting hug.

A hug?

She paused, blinking her eyes to try and clear away the tears. When had she started crying? How had she ended back up in her bed?

Someone was speaking to her. The voice by her ears was murmuring, telling her everything was ok. That she was safe here. That there was nothing to be worried about.

"Remiel?" She asked, voice wavering. A familiar kiss was pressed against her forehead as the Archangel tried to calm her shaking body. He pulled her in tighter as Samael finally stopped fighting.

"It was just a bad dream," Remiel soothed as she clung to him, tears pouring from her eyes. "It wasn't real, darling. You're ok. I'm ok. We're safe."

"It was all my fault," she moaned, clinging to his shirt like her life depended on it. "I couldn't stop him before and now he's come back and he's going to kill you! He's going to kill all the Angels in Heaven and he's going to make me watch and there's nothing I can do!"

She couldn't think - couldn't breath. Samael was shaking all over, the images from the dream playing over and over in her mind. Her chest heaved with each attempt at a breath, but the more frequently she began to draw them in, the less air she felt like she was getting.

_Am I going to die?_

The arms moved from around her shoulders to the side of her face. Samael felt her head being lifted up and she soon found herself face to face with a pair of concerned brown eyes.

"Samael," the Archangel spoke, caressing her cheek softly with the palm of his hand. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I won't leave you, I _promise._"

Finally, the air reached her lungs. Samael knew she didn't have to breath, but she had grown accustomed to it. Being unable to for that moment had been almost as terrifying as the dream had been.

Once she had calmed down, Remiel lowered his hands from her cheeks, choosing to hold onto her hands instead. She glanced down and saw angry red marks on the arm he had used to wake her up. Shame filled Samael and she averted her eyes from the Archangel. She had _hurt_ him, and here he was comforting her. What had she done to deserve someone like him?

"I'm sorry -" her voice broke and more tears came streaming down her face.

"Oh, Samael," she heard him breathe. The pain in his voice sent more waves of shame through her entire body. She had to get out of here. Away from this place where demons haunted her sleep and where she continually hurt the being that she cherished most in the whole world. In that moment, even Heaven wouldn't be far enough away from the turmoil that was churning in her heart.

"Please don't go!" she heard him shout as Samael stood up from the bed and pulled her arm away. Slowly, she turned and brought her eyes hesitantly up to his. They were swimming with unshed tears, masking emotions that Samael couldn't even begin to understand.

"If you need to leave, that's ok," he continued. "If you need to get out of this house for a while, we can do that. We can go for a walk, or maybe even fly around for a while. It's dark enough. No one will see us. Just, please, let me go with you."

She took in a shaky breath. "But I hurt you, Remiel." reaching out, she brushed her fingertips over the red marks on his skin. If only she didn't have to hide who she was. If only them being here didn't put them in so much danger. She would have healed him in a heartbeat. "I did this. _Me_. Why would you even want to be around me?"

He didn't answer for a very long time. Samael thought she had wanted to get away from him, but she found this sudden distance to be worse than she could have ever imagined. What was she going to do if he decided to leave? How would she ever manage on her own?

"Come on," he said finally, standing up to join her in the center of the room. "Let's go for a flight. Just you and me. We don't have to talk at all if you don't want to, but I think we need to get out of the house for a while to clear your head."

So they did just that. Samael and Remiel took to the skies. They soared high above the clouds in complete silence. The Archangel let her lead the way, remaining several dozen feet behind her. He had been right. The cool night air and the feeling of the wind in her wings again was just what Samael needed.

They flew for over an hour before she lowered them down to a decently sized forest. Landing was a bit trickier than she remembered, but the branch she'd chosen to land on was sturdy. Soon enough Remiel was sitting down by her side, his leg brushing up against hers as he shifted his weight around getting comfortable.

"Why did you decide to stay with me?" Samael finally asked, the weight of her question hanging in the air around them. The dream - the _nightmare_ \- had shaken her to her core. Remiel didn't have to be here. Staying on Earth with her was putting him in danger. He _had _ to know that. So why did he stay? "Surely staying in Heaven would have been a safer alternative."

"I couldn't bear the thought of leaving you here alone."

The Archangel's answer was so sincere, it brought tears to Samael's eyes. She felt her heart clench and stomach flutter simultaneously and wondered how someone could feel so happy and so sad at the same time.

"But, Crowley is after you," she protested. Remiel had to see reason. "If he finds out you're here he will kill you. I can't let that happen. It's my duty to - "

Her voice was cut off when his hand found hers in the darkness. For a moment, Samael forgot how to breathe as Remiel's fingers intertwined with her own. Unlike earlier that night, this breathlessness was not nearly as unpleasant.

"You are more than a means to an end, Samael," the Archangel urged, a sudden ferocity to his voice. "You are more than a weapon created to get rid of a problem. You are an _angel_, beloved child of the Almighty. You are kind, and inquisitive and oh so very brave. So much more so than me." He squeezed her hand lightly. Even in the darkness, Samael could picture the soft smile she just knew was being directed at her.

He was silent for a while. Emotion was coming off him in waves, but Samael couldn't pinpoint what was at the center of it all. She waited as the Archangel thought. He seemed to be struggling with what to say. Eventually, he settled on: "I barely hold a candle to the brilliance that is you."

"That's not true!" she found herself practically hissing back. Samael hadn't meant her comment to come out so violently, but his words had sent a shock through her she hadn't been expecting. "Remiel, you left Heaven for me. Even though you didn't have to. Even though you know you'd be safer there. Just so I didn't have to be alone. I can't even begin to describe how much that means to me. You are the most wonderful friend I could have asked for to go through this crazy adventure with me."

Sadness permeated the air around them, and Samael knew instantly that she had said something wrong. Why couldn't she understand this? Why was everything she did tonight upsetting him so much?

"I'm sorry," she started. "I don't understand what I'm doing wrong, Remiel. I just want - "

"It's ok." His voice was soft, and understanding. He reached out an arm and pulled her in until she was resting her head on his shoulders. Samael sighed, breathing in his scent. She could still feel the sadness radiating off him, but there was something softer and warmer underneath. "You don't have to understand. You're doing a wonderful job just where you are."

There was a certain finality to his words that made Samael think twice about saying anything else. She smiled softly as Remiel leaned in to kiss the top of her head, but her heart lay heavy in her chest. All she wanted was for Remiel to be happy. He deserved that much. No, he deserved more than that. But she had messed that up. Just as she had messed up the task that had sent her down here in the first place.

She _had _to prepare herself for what was to come. If not for her sake, than for Remiel's. Once she took care of the demon, they could go home. Remiel could return to Heaven, where he belonged and all would go back to normal. They could leave this wonderfully beautiful strange world behind and she could finally start working on a way to thank the Archangel for all he had done for her.


	10. Chapter 10

Will spent most of his lunch breaks in the library. Food wasn't technically allowed, but he absolutely loathed the chaos that was his school's cafeteria. So, he packed several bags of quiet snacks into his backpack each day and hoped for the best.

Most days, he was able to secure a seat at one of the back tables. Here, he was out of the direct eyesight of the librarian while she worked at the front desk. It was easier to sneak bites of his blueberries and cheese cubes this way. Out of sight, out of mind. Wasn't that how the saying went?

Apart from drawing, reading was Will's other love in life. He absolutely adored sitting down with a good book. The better the book, the easier it was for him to completely lose himself in it. Daring adventures, timeless romances, theological quandaries. It didn't matter to Will what the stories were about, really, so long as they were written well.

Will lost himself quite often. It shouldn't have surprised him to find himself face to face with another student when he next looked up. At this point, he rather should have expected it.

He hadn't. And when he glanced up to check if the coast was clear to sneak another handful of fruit, Will found another boy in his line of sight, standing alarmingly close, looking right at him. He nearly fell out of his seat in shock.

"Can I help you?" Will asked politely once he had recovered. Gently, he set his book down, marking the place with a thin sheet of laminated paper. The boy looked to be a year or two younger than him - probably a freshman, if he had to guess. He had hair almost as curly as Will's but several shades darker, with kind hazel eyes hiding behind a pair of wide rimmed spectacles.

"Is that your notebook on the ground?" the boy asked, pointing down to a spot just to the right of Will's chair. The blonde haired boy turned and saw to his horror that his notebook and several of his drawings were splayed all over the ground. His backpack must have fallen over at some point and everything had fallen out for the whole world to see.

"I noticed that drawing of St. George's Church and had to come over to tell you. It's very good, you know. You've even got the old stained-glass window from before the war. I'm impressed."

Several moments passed as Will scrambled to pick up all the papers he'd spilled. He wasn't really listening to what the boy was saying, but somehow his brain had latched onto some of the words enough to ask: "You know this church?"

"Of course." The boy sat down across from Will without so much as a second thought. "That's one of the churches that was bombed during World War II. It was practically reduced to rubble during the Blitz. They had to rebuild it entirely from scratch. There's a stained glass window in the same location now, but they redid the design. The one you drew was from before the war. I've seen a few pictures in some of the books I've read, but never ones with this much detail. You're really very talented."

In any normal circumstance, Will probably would have been highly embarrassed at this stranger's praise. He hated anyone looking at his artwork. Mostly due to the fact that if they looked closely enough, it would be almost impossible to miss the underlying theme in anything he created.

Now, however, he could only focus on the fact that this student recognized a location in one of his drawings. Will had never once stopped to think that maybe these places he dreamed about were real. He was shocked to find out that maybe they were. He'd always just thought it was all in his head.

"This is a real place?" There was no need for him to ask again. The boy had told him exactly where this church was, but Will just had to be sure. If this was real, then something freaky was going on with him.

"Yeah," the boy nodded, curls waving wildly about. "Don't you know that? I mean, you drew it, right?"

Will blushed. "Well...I - I mean, yeah, I drew it. But I've never seen it before, you know? I just. Well I - "

How did he explain this? And why on earth did he suddenly want to? This was insanity. Will should just thank the student for his compliment and send him on his merry way. Looking down at the picture he'd laid between them, blue eyes dancing over the all too familiar silhouette, the boy had a sudden urge to know.

"I had a dream about it," he admitted finally, chancing a glance up at the younger boy to see what his reaction would be. Instead of the expected snort of disbelief or boisterous laughter, Will was met with contemplative silence.

"Do you have dreams a lot?" the boy asked curiously, no hint of malice or judgement in his voice. He actually looked intrigued, something Will had not expected.

"Sometimes," Will answered, trying to seem unfeeling towards the idea. Something tugged at him and he found himself amending the earlier statement. "A decent bit, actually. And they're not always the same. I've had lots of dreams. About lots of different places. Here. Take a look."

Before his brain could tell him 'No', Will found himself pulling out several more sketches. There was the one of the park with a pond full of ducks. And one that depicted a rounded theater hall and people wearing very old looking clothes. He passed them all one by one to the student sitting across from him, anxiously awaiting what he would say.

The boy studied the drawings carefully, holding them gently by the edges as he flipped from one to the next. "Do you believe in reincarnation?" he asked after spending a particularly long time examining the sketch Will had made of the mystery man standing alone atop a grassy hill. In this one, he was standing with his back to the observer, overlooking a collection of shambling houses that lead up to a massive palace made entirely of marble.

"I dunno," Will answered truthfully. "I've never really given it much thought before. Why?"

"These drawings are all from different points in history," the student explained, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as they began to slide down. "Egypt, The Globe Theater, World War II. You dreamed of all of these?"

"Yes," Will answered meekly, painfully aware how close these questions were to another subject he'd really rather not talk about at the moment.

The other student made a sound somewhere between a 'hmm' and a 'huh' and then turned to look at Will once more. The pages he'd been looking at slid gently across the table as he extended his arm to push them in that direction.

"We could always ask my Mum. She's dealt with these sorts of things before." When Will looked up, confused, the boy continued. "She's an Occultist. Rather - " he amended quickly "she's a manager at an accounting firm. But she's an occultist too, in her spare time."

"Oh," was all Will could find to say. What did one say to a statement like that? Not that Will didn't believe the other student. What reason would he have to lie? But still, it all seemed a little bit farfetchd.

"You could come over tonight, if you wanted," the boy stated, offering Will a hesitant smile. This was the first real sign of emotion he'd displayed so far in their conversation. "Or maybe sometime later this week."

"Um, maybe?" It was the best Will could offer at the moment. He didn't really have...well _any _friends at school. At least, not any that he spent time with outside of school. The thought of having the chance to become friends with this boy, no matter how strange he seemed, was a happy one. "I'd have to call my parents and ask."

The boy nodded in understanding. A moment later, he was holding out a phone in the palm of his hand. "Want to use my cell?" he asked curiously. "Or do you have one of your own?"

Will had one of his own, and before he could think through what was happening, he had pulled it out and was halfway through dialing his mother's number.

"Will, is everything alright? You never call me during school."

"Yeah, mom," he began. "I'm fine. I'm on my lunch break," he explained, not wanting her to think he was breaking any rules. "A friend of mine asked if I wanted to go hang out with him after school at his house. Would that be alright? Could I go over tonight? Or maybe another time this week?"

"Of course," his mother answered without hesitation. Will was surprised at how quickly she'd agreed. His mother wasn't necessarily overbearing, but Will was her only child. She liked to keep tabs on him wherever he went. Not that he happened to go anywhere very often. "What's his name? You've never mentioned anyone before?"

Will froze for a moment, eyes going wide. He didn't even know this boy's name, and he was asking permission to go over to his house.

"One second." He placed his hand over the mouthpiece and turned to the younger student. "What's your name?" he hissed quietly."She wants to know."

The boy grinned, extending out a hand in greeting.

"Titus Device-Pulsifer. At your service."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: This will probably be it for tonight. If you're enjoying the story so far, please let me know! Reading reviews absolutely make my day :) I'll try to get the rest of it up sometime tomorrow morning. Until then, enjoy!**

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want to call it quits for today?" Ann Marie asked as the girls began their dynamic stretching routine. "You look terrible."

Samael shrugged. "I didn't sleep well last night."

Technically, it wasn't a lie. She hadn't slept at all last night. The angel hadn't slept at all in the last three nights. Not since that horrible nightmare. She'd been so afraid to see the demon again, so afraid to hear Remiel's screams and be able to do nothing that she'd decided that she would likely never sleep again. At least not until this entire mess was over and done with.

"I'm fine to run, though," Samael assured her. And she was. At first, running had been a strange sensation. The first time, she'd nearly tripped and fallen half a dozen times. But Samael was a fast learner. Now, when she ran, it was almost as easy as breathing.

She always ran at Ann Marie's pace. As an angel created for battle, Samael's strength and endurance was already much higher than that of an average human's. If she used her full range of abilities, Ann Marie would instantly know something was different about her. That was a revelation she was trying to avoid at all costs.

"If you're sure," the taller girl consented. "Maybe this time I can actually keep up with you."

Samael looked at her friend, startled. "What do you mean? I always make sure to run with you."

Ann Marie laughed. She shook out her arms and legs one last time at the conclusion of their stretches. "My point exactly. We run for three or four miles several times a week and at the end of it, I'm sweating like a construction worker and you look like you just stepped off the stage for Miss Universe."

They started off at a slower pace, allowing their bodies to adjust to the sudden increase in effort that was required. Most mornings, the girls met up at the end of the street. There was a forest path that made about a half a mile long loop in the woods behind Ann Marie's house. A few laps around that and they were done for the day.

On the weekends, Ann Marie liked to change it up. Sometimes, they rode their bikes to the river and would run along the path there. Other times, Ann Marie would drive them into the city and they'd spend time at one of the parks.

This time, her friend had insisted on St. James Park. Samael had been trying to steer Ann Marie away from that location for as long as they had been meeting up. She knew, eventually, she would run out of reasons to go anywhere else. That day was today.

_Relax_, Samael told herself. _He's not going to show up here. Why would he be here, of all places? Just because Heaven saw him here a few times before over the last three hundred years does not mean he makes a habit of visiting St. James Park._

She tried to convince herself, really tried. But the gnawing panic at the edge of her consciousness wouldn't go away no matter what she did.

Samael hadn't told Remiel where she was going that morning. He knew she was going running, she had just neglected to tell him exactly where they would be running. It wasn't technically a lie, but she'd felt horrible about deceiving him, all the same.

"How are your studies going?" Ann Marie asked politely as they rounded the first corner of their loop. At just over a mile, this path through the park was a bit longer than they were used to. Samael found she was enjoying it more than the track in the woods. There was more to look at here in the city. Even though the sun had only been up for an hour or so, people had already begun to go about their days. Where they lived, the weekends tended to be calm and quiet. Here in the city, they were just as busy as any other day.

"Not too bad." What could Samael possibly say to her friend? She absolutely despised lying, but explaining how she really spent her days was out of the question. "I've been studying a lot of literature lately. That's been interesting."

She _had _been doing quite a bit of reading. As part of her research, Remiel had convinced her to get a library card, to make things easier. Most of the things she checked out were history and religious texts, but she had picked up a novel or two to read whenever she felt like she needed a break. "I'm working my way through Romeo and Juliet right now."

"Ugh." Samael was surprised at the disdain in Ann Marie's response. Wasn't Romeo and Juliet a classic? Were there some humans that didn't enjoy it? "That play is so dumb. Like, who in their right mind falls in love with someone they barely even know and then kills themselves over it? I bet if you asked either one of them to list ten things about each other, they wouldn't even be able to do that."

Samael frowned. She hadn't thought about that before. Romance was an aspect about humanity she had no understanding of at all. Were people supposed to get to know one another first? When did a relationship turn from getting to know someone to loving someone? It was all very confusing. She was glad she didn't have to deal with anything like that.

"I bet that you and I could make up a list of things about each other that's longer than the things Romeo and Juliet could come up with."

"We could?" The prospect was surprisingly interesting to Samael. What sort of things had Ann Marie picked up about her? She'd been careful not to reveal too much about her true nature.

"Sure," the girl stated simply as the pair passed by another runner going the opposite direction. Samael gazed over at the pond on her right, smiling as a group of ducks floated by. "For example, you like music. And you have a nice singing voice."

That much was true. Samael hadn't really heard much music during her time in Heaven, and the songs she had experienced were all celestial harmonies. The music here on Earth was much more lively and fun to sing along to.

"You enjoy being outdoors," Samael tried, remembering how her friend always seemed to find an excuse to spend her free time outside. "And your favorite color is Navy blue."

"Your favorite treat is anything with chocolate."

"You love a good competition, even when the only person that will compete with you is _you_."

"You hate it when -"

Ann Marie was cut off when Samael reached out a hand and pulled them both to a stop.

She had smelled it an instant before it came into view. The stench of sulphur and brimstone sent waves of fear straight into her heart. For the briefest of moments, her vision was flooded with images of golden eyes and sharp flashes of teeth. Panic threatened to consume her, but Samael fought it off.

There was a demon here in St. James Park, and she would be damned if she let it get anywhere near her friend.

The creature had taken on the form of a middle aged human, with dark eyes and tangled brown hair. It was wearing a pair of jeans and a white tank top and had positioned himself directly in their path, less than twenty feet away.

"Well, well," the creature growled, its voice low and gravely. "What do we have here?"

Samael's mind started racing a million miles a minute. What should she do? Should she attack the demon directly? Doing so would certainly blow her cover in front of Ann Marie but would also lead Crowley right to her. And what if there were more of them here? One demon, she could take care of, but three? Or four? She'd never tried to take on so many opponents at once.

Should she play dumb and try to call for help? There were enough humans around. She had no doubt that several would come running to the aid of two defenseless teenage girls. Would that be enough to scare the demon off? What if it attacked them too? Then there would be more witnesses and Crowley would surely find her. Not to mention that the moment she miracled anything, Remiel would be at her side and then he would be in danger too.

"We don't want any trouble," Samael began cautiously. Surely it wouldn't hurt to try talking her way out of it. She had no idea what the demon wanted with them. Did it know that she was an angel in disguise? Or was it simply looking to tempt two unsuspecting humans? "If you'd just let us by…"

The demon grinned. Samael could see the sharp canine teeth behind its fleshy lips. She chanced a glance at Ann Marie. The girl looked nervous, but did not wear a look of complete horror. What did she see when she looked at this creature? Did he appear to be a normal, yet creepy looking man to her? Or could she see the beast that lay underneath?

"I don't think so. You're both such pretty humans. It would be a terrible waste to let you get away now."

There was both good news and bad news in the demon's statement. The good news was that it looked as if it had absolutely no idea she was an angel. The bad news was - it was doing absolutely _nothing _to hide the fact it was a demon other than its current outward appearance, which didn't bode well for either of them.

The demon took a step forward and Samael immediately moved to stand in front of Ann Marie, ignoring her friend's protests. "Stop." Her voice commanded, barely keeping the authority of Heaven out of it. She would perform a miracle if she had to, but Samael prayed it wouldn't come to that.

A snarl left the creature's lips, but Samael stood her ground. She was not going to let anything happen to either one of them. _If there's a way out of this, I'd really appreciate a nudge in the right direction._

"Who are you to command me, _human_?" The deep grumble of its voice reverberated in her chest. This was it. The demon was going to force her hand and everything she worked so hard for would be lost. There was no alternative.

"Who are you to attack two defenseless girls?" a new voice called from behind them.

Samael had thought it couldn't have gotten any worse until she heard those words coming from _that_ voice. Her whole body stiffened as the demon Crowley walked past them and positioned himself halfway between them and the other demon. A new fear coursed through her. The other demon, she could have taken had a fight broken out. Now, she was as good as dead.

"_Crawley!_" The demon's voice was filled with a sudden disgust that hadn't been there before. "Fancy seeing you here."

"I'd stop talking now, if I were you."

The suggestion was soft, but carried a weight with it that sent shivers down the angel's spine. He approached this demon with the same nonchalance and amusement as when he'd approached her. Surely he wouldn't. He couldn't -

"Get out of my way."

"I think not."

A bloodcurdling screech filled the air as the demon howled in pain, clutching at its face. There was something in Crowley's hand. He had lifted it briefly and pointed it in the demon's direction before the screaming had started. From this angle, Samael couldn't see what it was.

The demon ran away, and for the briefest of moments, Samael thought she saw angry red lines marring its face accompanied by the smell of burning flesh in the air.

"Holy shit," Ann Marie breathed when their assaulter had vanished through the trees. "You saved us."

"Are you alright?" The question was so soft and filled with a tenderness that could rival Remiel's. It took a few minutes for Samael's mind to register it had been _Crowley_ that had asked it.

Crowley turned and Samael was both relieved and terrified to see his amber eyes hidden beneath a pair of black sunglasses. She couldn't tell where he was looking, but she didn't sense any burning rage rolling off him. Was it possible he didn't recognize her?

"You two should probably carry some of this on you," he mentioned, tossing a small bottle in Ann Marie's direction. Her hands flew out and she caught it, turning the bottle around slowly in her hands.

"Pepper spray?"

Everything clicked together in that moment. In hindsight, his miracle should have been obvious, but Samael had been too afraid to register it in her mind. While that bottle may be filled with pepper spray now, it most certainly had been a container of Holy Water a few moments prior.

That demon was as good as dead.

She didn't know how to feel or what to think. Had Crowley done away with the demon simply to help out a pair of humans he didn't know? That seemed very out of character for him. Was it possible that he had been hunting the demon and just happened to cross their path at the right moment to lend a hand? That seemed more likely. Why else would he have been carrying a canister of Holy Water with him if not to kill a demon? There were no angels here on Earth besides herself and Remiel, so he couldn't very well spend his time hunting angels anymore.

But why would he want to hunt a demon?

Samael came to her senses when she felt a gentle nudge from Ann Marie. The angel looked up at the demon standing before her, forcing a soft smile onto her face.

"I suppose I should say thank you?"

The wave of sadness caught her by surprise. She had felt his despair in their previous interaction, but this was different. It was softer at the edges, as if the pain had been lessened with time. Samael didn't understand. What part of her question could have upset the demon?

"Better not," the demon replied, turning to walk away. "Better not."


	12. Chapter 12

The idea came to her slowly over the next few days.

Ann Marie had been the one to plant the seed. After their frightful experience in the city the previous weekend, the girls had stuck to running in direct sight of at least one of their houses. The route was short and repetitive, but at least they weren't terrified to step outside. And the boredom they both felt made for good conversations most mornings.

"We should have asked him for his number," Ann Marie was saying as they passed by her front yard for the tenth time. "Or at least gotten a name. We barely said 'Thank you' and he saved our _lives, _Sam."

"Yeah," the angel mumbled, not sure how to tell her friend that the man she was currently so enamored with was literally a demon from hell that had murdered actual angels from heaven. "I didn't think to ask him for either of those." The name, because she already knew it, and the number because why would she ever want to pick up the phone and call Crowley?

"Ugh!" The taller girl huffed. "And he was so cute too. In one of those bad boy, antihero sort of ways, you know?"

"Really?" Samael asked, the wheels in her mind grinding slowly into motion. She knew that the time was drawing nearer where she would need to take action. Samael had to find a way to get the demon's attention - to draw him to her without directly revealing she was the one he was looking for.

There was something about all this that wasn't sitting quite right with her. Instances of her interactions with Crowley stuck out in her mind and she didn't know what to do about it. His initial shock upon seeing her for the first time, the way he'd spared her life when he hadn't done so with any other celestial being. The way he'd not only saved her and Ann Marie, but asked them both if they were ok after the demon attack, as if he'd actually cared about them.

None of those things were something Samael had expected Crowley to do, based on what the other angels had told her about him. She needed to do a bit of research on her own - needed to observe him for a bit to try and answer the ever growing list of questions in her mind.

"I thought he seemed too old for us."

Samael would be the first one to admit she was no expert on age and the judging thereof. Crowley's corporation could have been anywhere from fifteen to fifty and she would be none the wiser. Still, the idea that her friend might be harboring affections for the demon made her extremely uncomfortable. It was probably best to steer the girl as far away from Crowley as she could.

"You think? I figured he was probably college aged. That's not too bad, right? Besides, boys mature so much slower than we do. All the ones in my year are complete idiots. Believe me, Sam. you're not missing out on much."

The moment the idea came to her, Samael hated it. It was far too risky. It would never work. She'd be putting her friend in danger. However, the more the angel thought, the harder the idea seemed to stick in her mind.

Ann Marie was interested in Crowley. That much was clear. It was possible that if the pair were reintroduced, Samael could observe the demon through her friend. The thought of the demon being in her friend's life, even for a brief moment, was enough to make the angel sweat with anxiety, but there was a part of her that almost insisted that Crowley wouldn't hurt Ann Marie. He'd saved her, after all. What would be the point?

The next puzzle she had to solve was how to get the demon to come to her without him actually knowing it was her he was looking for. Performing a miracle would be the simplest solution. It would be a bright beacon of radiant energy that was the equivalent to holding up a neon sign in a dark room reading 'Here I am'.

Samael didn't want to be that obvious. In an ideal world, she would much rather be in a room with all the lights turned off and only the briefest scent of radiant energy in the air, metaphorically speaking, of course. She wanted Crowley to be aware there was a celestial presence nearby, but unable to discern which of the humans around him was actually an angel in disguise.

Where could Ann Marie and Crowley interact that Samael wouldn't draw attention to herself? The angel feared that if she were around she would be unable to stay in character. She would do something or say something that would give her away and all would be lost. So, she needed a place where Ann Marie went fairly often and the angel didn't follow.

School was the obvious choice. Her friend spent five days a week there for large chunks of the day and Samael had never once stepped foot inside the building. That would have to change, of course, if she were going to leave enough energy for Crowley to follow, but it seemed the best course of action given the circumstances.

"Is there a way I could see that for myself?" Samael had asked, not having to fake the curiosity in her voice. School was one of the experiences she hadn't had the opportunity to participate in yet while on Earth and it seemed like one she would hate to miss. "Like a trial run? I've been thinking about stopping homeschooling after this year."

That statement had not been a lie. It just meant something very different to the angel saying it and the human who was listening.

"Oh my gosh! Seriously?" Ann Marie exclaimed, jumping up and down in excitement. "I would _love _to have you at school. Yes! We can absolutely set up a time for you to shadow me. You're going to love it, Sam. There's so many things to get involved in and the workload really isn't that bad…"

Samael stopped listening for a while after that. It was nothing against Ann Marie, she just had other things her mind needed to focus on.

After a short discussion with Remiel, they had set up a date the first week of November for Samael to go with Ann Marie to school. She would be a 'shadow' student, which basically meant Samael would go with her friend to each of her classes and simply observe. The process would give her access to the school all day, which should be more than enough time to find and perform a miracle.

The precise nature of the miracle she would perform was still a bit of a mystery, but Samael still had time to figure that out. She needed it to be big enough to draw the demon's attention. That part would be easy enough. The tricky part was it needed to be something the demon believed she had done reluctantly. An inconvenient but necessary action, like changing the traffic pattern to avoid an accident on the freeway, or knocking out an individual threatening to shoot up the school. It needed to be something that was unavoidable, preferably something that would either save lives or prevent injury. Samael wanted him to think she'd had no choice in performing the miracle. That was the only way her plan would work.

Remiel had been thrilled to hear about her plan. The shadowing aspect, that is. Samael hadn't exactly gotten around to telling him about the miracle bit yet.

"This is wonderful news, Samael!" He gushed as he bustled around the kitchen preparing dinner. Remiel didn't really have a job to do while she was training or spending time with her friends. He spent a lot of his time at home or wandering around town visiting with people. Watching movies was one of his favorite pastimes and since her first experience with grapes, the Archangel had taken up cooking.

She knew she didn't have much to compare it to, but Samael thought he was quite good at it.

"Just think - next year you'll complete your senior year and then it's off to University! I've heard there are several good ones in London. It would be wonderful to visit you in the city. We could visit museums or go to concerts! I've always wanted to see a stage production at the National Theatre."

Samael froze upon hearing these words. With their earlier shadowing discussion, she'd hoped that she and Remiel had been on the same page. True, she hadn't exactly mentioned her run in with Crowley at the park, but she still had a reason for being here on Earth. She still had a purpose to fulfil. Surely, he knew that.

"Remiel," she began slowly, not wanting to upset him. He looked so happy in that moment as he rambled on and on about future plans. "What are you talking about?"

He paused and Samael could see something flash through the depths of his brown eyes. She felt nothing, though. The Archangel was doing a good job of holding his feelings back from her this time. "Your future, of course," he ventured, all excitement evaporating from his body in an instant. "You said you wanted to go to school next year. That's why you're shadowing Ann Marie."

"No," she was trying to be as gentle as she could. Samael wanted to reach out and take his hand, to reassure him. She wanted that sudden, panic-stricken look on his face to disappear. "I said I was thinking of stopping homeschooling next year and that I wanted to shadow Ann Marie."

"Isn't that the same thing?" The combination of hope and fear in his voice nearly undid her. What was going on with him? The sooner she got back to the task at hand, the sooner he could go home. Remiel had to know that.

"Remiel, I'm going to perform a miracle at the school while I'm there."

His eyes widened. "You can't. That will draw Crowley right to you."

"That's the whole point," she argued. Samael watched as the Archangel put down the knife he had been using to slice up tomatoes. For a moment, she thought he was actually going to pass out.

When Remiel said nothing, she took it as a cue to continue explaining. "I need to lure him to me, without him actually finding me right away. He'll have no idea which student was the miracle worker and I'll actually have a chance to observe him. To find his weakness."

"But there's so much here you haven't done," the Archangel protested quietly.

Samael sighed quietly. What was up with him? Why was he acting this way? Wasn't he supposed to support her? Help her carry out her mission? "Remiel, I've healed. Wholly and completely. There's no reason to stay here anymore. Once I take care of Crowley, you and I can go back to Heaven. We can go home."

Even with the Archangel blocking his emotions from her, Samael did not miss the anguish that flashed through his eyes.

"But what about Christmas, and cold winter nights by the fireplace? What about the first rainfall in spring? What about Ann Marie, and all the other friends you've made? Isn't all of that worth staying, just a bit longer?"

None of that mattered. There was a lifetime of reasons for her to stay. There always would be. So what was the point in dragging it out any longer than they needed to?

That is what Samael should have said to Remiel. She should have approached him with the same warmth and gentleness he showed to her. She should have wrapped her arms around him and asked him what was really going on. Instead, she felt her temper rising with every word he spoke.

"Why are you doing this?" she found herself shouting at him. "Why are you trying to keep me from doing what I was made to do?"

His body stiffened at her questions. Samael had never shouted at him before, not like this. Not in anger. She felt guilt wash over her, but before she could apologize, he was already speaking.

"I've already told you, Samael, you're _more_ than that. So much more."

"What does that even mean?" she cried, feeling tears pricking at the edges of her eyes. Not now. She did not want to cry now. Not in front of him. "Remiel, I was created to destroy Crowley. That's it. It's the one thing I have trained for. The one thing Heaven expects of me. Why do you insist on taking that away from me?"

"Why do you insist on hanging onto it so tightly?"

"Because it's all that I have!"

Her response rang out in front of her, driving an invisible wedge in the space between them. Samael's throat ached with the force of holding back her tears. All she wanted to do was run to him, but her feet were firmly frozen in place.

His silence stretched on for an eternity. Samael knew she had gone too far. She desperately wished she could take those words back, but if this would finally allow him to let her go and do what she had to do, maybe it was best if she kept silent. Even if what she'd said wasn't really how she felt.

_Say something, _she urged the Archangel, unsure of what to do now. Should she go to him? Did he want her to leave? Should they switch subjects or perhaps go do something fun they both would enjoy? _Please, anything._

"I see," his voice was so cold. Colder than she had ever thought possible. "Well, if that's how you really feel, go right ahead. Who am I to stand in your way?"

_No,_ she wanted to shout. _I don't feel that way._ She couldn't bring herself to say anything. Samael wasn't exactly sure why. Was it because she was afraid? Or maybe it was because she didn't know what she was feeling and lending words to it would only make things more confusing.

She said nothing, and after a few minutes of silence, when she was convinced the Archangel would not turn around and look at her again, when she knew the conversation was over, Samael left.

They did not speak again until the day Samael went to the school. Like a majority of days, the greater London area had decided to be covered in a blanket of rain. The bad weather didn't bother Samael much. She found that the sound and smell of the rain soothed her in ways that not a lot of other things could.

"Sorry we picked such a rotten day for you to come visit," Ann Marie grumbled as she led Samael though the front doors and into the front office. "I was going to take you to some of the practices after school let out, in case you were thinking of trying out next year, but I bet everything will get cancelled after a day like this."

Samael shrugged, her mind anywhere else but engaged in the conversation they were currently having. She was using this time to take in as much information as she could. Before the end of the day, the angel had to find a plausible miracle to perform. Otherwise she would have to delay her plans and find another excuse to visit.

Was it wrong of her to wish for something bad to happen? She didn't want someone to collapse from a heart attack or for a tornado to rip through the school, but it would certainly be convenient. How was she ever going to pull this off?

_Send me something to work with_, she pleaded as Ann Marie walked the pair down the hallway to their first class. _I promise to keep them all safe._

Fifteen minutes into the first class, not only had Samael completely tuned the teacher out, she had decided that traditional schooling like this was pointless. What even _was _trigonometry, and when would students _ever _need to use it in their lives? She'd lived on Earth for five months now and had never encountered the need for it. If there was no practical application to the lesson, what was the point in learning it?

Most of the students seemed to be paying attention, which Samael supposed was a good thing. She'd never been around so many humans at once. Most of them hadn't paid her much attention when she'd arrived, but a few of them had stuck around to say hello. She wondered if most of the students here enjoyed themselves. Ann Marie seemed to, most days, unless something unusual happened.

Would she have liked it here, had she been able to stay? Samael banished the thought the moment it entered her mind. She had to remain focused. There were six hours left in the day and she had to find a miracle before it was over. There was no other option.

Samael felt the lightning exactly three seconds before it struck. It was a one in a million chance to happen, but the opportunity presented itself and the angel took it.

Each miracle an angel performed was different. There was always something unique about the way they manifested themselves and the way they were experienced by the beings around them. When Samael surreptitiously tapped her fingers against the desk where she sat, there was a sudden loud crack as the lightning bolt destined to hit the roof of the school suddenly changed course and struck the ground harmlessly about a mile away.

Time stopped for a moment, and Samael's eyes filled with the possibilities of 'what if'. Had she not redirected the lightning, it would have struck the school without a doubt. All the lights would have immediately turned off, causing the teachers to keep everyone firmly in their seats until the problem was fixed. A fire would have broken out on the top floor and burned for nearly twenty minutes before anyone noticed it. Students would panic as the fire alarm sounded and chaos would have ensued as they all tried to escape the building into the pouring rain.

All in all, Samael's quick miracle had prevented thousands of dollars in damage, stopped four students and a teacher from sustaining second degree burns and kept nearly fifteen hundred people from standing out in the rain for hours on end. She couldn't have planned a better outcome if she'd tried.

Samael's vision returned to her and she found herself back in the classroom. No one seemed to have noticed what had happened outside. The angel smiled to herself, trying to ignore the racing of her heart and churning in her stomach. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves and turned her attention back to the teacher up front.

For the briefest of moments, the whole room smelled of lilacs.


	13. Chapter 13

The Device-Pulsifer house could only be described as the epitome of compromise. It seemed to be a perfect mixture of classic and contemporary. Cozy and modern. Will walked through the front door and was immediately greeted by a grandfather clock that looked like something he would find in an antique store except the faces appeared to be some sort of touch screen computer. His feet stepped across dark hardwood flooring that looked practically new, but almost every bit of furniture within sight was from at least the early 1900s, if not earlier.

"Titus, dear?" Will heard a voice calling from down the hall. "Does your friend have any allergies? Your dad is about to start on dinner and I was having a hard time getting a reading on his aura."

Titus looked over to Will whose mind was still fixated on the 'reading his aura' bit his mother had so casually said. After a gentle push, Will shook his head.

"He's good, Mum."

"Excellent." The voice was drawing closer. "I'll have him make the peanut chicken then. Just drop your shoes by the front door. Dinner will be ready in about half an hour and - "

Will, who up until that point had been staring at a rather peculiar looking telescope looked up at the woman's sudden cutoff. She was standing in the hallway, wearing a high collared dress shirt and black dress pants. Titus' mother was what most men might call 'attractive'. She had long black hair that was currently pulled back in a single braid. Her caramel colored skin look soft and only slightly wrinkled with age and her brown eyes shone beneath a pair of glasses very similar in design to Titus'.

She looked strikingly familiar. He had no idea how, but Will was sure he'd seen her before...somewhere.

It was only after another moment of silence that Will realized the woman was crying. She had brought a hand to her face, covering her mouth in shock, and had her eyes fixed on him.

"It's so good to see you," she breathed and before he knew it a pair of arms were wrapped around his shoulders and Titus' mother was embracing him in one of the warmest hugs Will had ever received.

"Uh…" he stammered, not really sure what to do about this. Will glanced over at Titus. The boy looked about as confused as he felt. "It's good to see you too, Mrs. Device-Pulsifer." Titus had explained to him on the bus ride home that his parents had chosen to combine surnames when they got married. It could be confusing sometimes for people he knew to decipher what to call them. Will had been grateful for the information ahead of time and was proud of himself for not bumbling over it the first time. Titus' family name was quite a mouthful.

The woman stiffened slightly in his embrace, then released him and took a step back. "Where are my manners," she said rather abruptly. "Please, come inside."

Their home really was a beautiful one. Will especially loved all the knick knacks that had been placed on various tables and shelves around the house. He wondered if they all belonged to Titus' mom. He had said she was some sort of occultist in her free time. What did Titus' father do for a living? He felt a little strange being invited over so early into their friendship, but that only gave them more time to get to know each other, right? Surely that wasn't a bad thing.

"Hey mum?" Titus asked as they emptied out of the hallway and into the kitchen. The younger boy took a seat at the small table that had been set up by a sliding glass door and waited for his mother to acknowledge him. "Will here has some stuff he'd like you take a look at, if you have some time."

"Hmm?" she asked, sounding as if she'd just been pulled out of some deeply significant thought. "Oh, ah. Sure. Let me just go speak to your father for a second."

She practically ran out of the room. Will turned to look at the boy beside him. Titus was staring after his mother with his eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"Something weird is definitely going on here," he stated, bringing a hand up to his chin in concentration.

Will felt himself breathe a sigh of relief. So he wasn't going crazy after all. Titus' mother _was _acting very strange.

"I feel like it's somehow my fault," he found himself admitting. It was a preposterous notion. How could any part of that interaction be considered his fault? He'd never met these people before today, right?

Titus shrugged, then moved to the kitchen and opened up one of the drawers. "You get used to these sort of things in this family. I mean, my parents met as a part of a prophecy predicting the end of the world, so once you've learned to accept that, everything else seems pretty normal."

The boy handed him a handful of silverware. Will could only stare back, his mouth slightly agape. What had Titus said? That thing about prophecies and the end of the world? He had to be joking. Surely he was joking, right?

"No," Titus responded to Will's unspoken question. "I'm not making it up. It's in a book. The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnus Nutter, Witch. Mum's got a copy of it upstairs. It's a little rough around the edges. Got damaged in a fire. But you can still read most of it. Although," the boy paused, looking over to flash him a wide grin. "It's not so much fun anymore, with no more prophecies left to come true."

Will found himself laughing at this. Sure, it may seem weird that this boy believed in prophecies about the end of the world, but he'd been invited to come here to talk to Titus' mother about dreams that could be a sign of reincarnation. Who was he to decide what was believable or not?

A moment later, Titus' whole demeanor changed, as if he had sensed Will's internal decision. The younger boy smiled, his entire body relaxing into it. Will's eyes fell to the table, which was already half cleared of stuff. Realizing what the utensils in his hands were for, the boy quickly got to work setting the table.

"Is it just you and your parents?" Will asked curiously. He'd only been handed enough sets for four people.

"Yeah," Titus responded. "Neither one of my parents really knew if they wanted kids or not. My dad convinced mum to have me and I think, together, they decided that one was enough." The boy finished arranging the flowers at the center of the table, stepping back to admire his handiwork. "I was a bit of a handful."

"My folks call me their miracle child," Will found himself saying. Why was it so easy to confide in this boy? Was this what having friends felt like? He'd been under the impression that people could take up to several years to grow comfortable enough with each other to share such personal things. That didn't seem to be the case with him and Titus. He was starting to worry that he was acting weird and that if he kept talking for too long, he would scare the boy off. "For the longest time, they thought they couldn't have children. And then I came along. They tried for years after me, but I guess it just wasn't meant to be."

"Alright," Mrs. Device-Pulsifer breathed as she slid open the glass door and stepped inside. "Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes." She turned to face Will, the earlier emotion she'd displayed completely gone from her face, but not from her eyes. "You boys wanted to show me something?"

She moved them into the study, gesturing for Will to take a seat on the couch in front of her. As he did so, the boy pulled out several of his drawings and handed them over to her. Will watched with bated breath as the older woman took them in her hands and slowly began to study them.

As she studied them, Will studied her. He observed the creases on her forehead and how they deepened when moving from one page to the next. He studied her eyes and how they shimmered with repressed emotions. He noted how her hands trembled as she held the pages. Her touch was gentle, as if she were holding an ancient manuscript or a delicate treasure.

What he wouldn't give to read minds in this moment.

After what felt like centuries, her voice broke through the silence. "Do you have any more drawings? Specifically of this man?" she asked, pointing to the one aspect that tied all of Will's drawings together. His face flushed in embarrassment.

A soft hand found its way to his knee. Will looked up into a pair of understanding brown eyes.

"It's alright, Will," the woman murmured. "I know all of this can seem confusing and a little bit frightening, but I promise I will help you understand. I just need a little bit more context. Can you help me?"

A sudden and strange feeling came over him when she said his name for the first time. Will had always disliked his name. It was a perfectly acceptable name on its own, but he'd always felt like it didn't quite suit him. There were several instances he could remember people he knew commenting on the fact that he just didn't 'look like a Will'.

How a person looked like a name was beyond him, but every so often, the boy would have an experience that would ask him to question. This was one of them. Mrs. Device-Pulsifer calling him 'Will' seemed incorrect somehow, like there was another name out there somewhere that might suit him better.

Will nodded and pulled out the notebook containing some of his sketches. His favorite ones were in a folder hidden under his bed at home, but these should give her a pretty good idea. At least he hoped they would.

"Remarkable likeness," Mrs. Device-Pulsifer breathed as her fingers skimmed one of the first sketches. She had the book laying flat on her knees, so Will could see which image she was looking at. "And those eyes."

She had chosen one of the few drawings where the mystery man was not wearing sunglasses. He had long tangles of flaming red hair that fell to frame an expression of astonishment and wonder. At the center of the image were a pair of golden, snakelike eyes that stared out at them, wide and unblinking.

"I don't know why I drew them like that," Will hurriedly admitted. "I just - that's the way they showed up in my mind and no matter what I tried, I couldn't picture them any other way."

He was greeted with a warm smile that very much said '_you're not crazy. I understand, even if you don't'._

"How do these images show up in your mind, Will?"

"Dreams," he found himself answering after a moment's pause. There was that feeling again. His name sounded wrong coming out of her mouth. It was like she was supposed to be saying something else, but the word Will came out instead. "I have dreams about him. Not every night, but fairly often." Will's heart beat increased suddenly. Was it possible that she actually knew what was going on with him? Did she know this man? Everything she had done up to this point made him believe that she actually might. If she did, what did that mean?

Will was halfway through opening his mouth to ask who this man was when someone appeared in the doorway. A soft rapping on the frame drew their attention in his direction. This man had to be Titus' father. They looked too similar for him to be anyone else.

"Sorry for the interruption," the man said. "Just wanted to let you all know dinner is ready whenever you are." His eyes slid from his wife over to Will. A smile appeared on his face and he raised a hand in greeting. "Hey Aziraphale."

"Newton!" his wife scolded. "What did we _just _talk about?"

"S-sorry," the man stammered, suddenly looking as pale as a sheet. "I didn't mean to, it sort of just slipped out."

At that moment, Titus' parents launched themselves into a heated debate of which Will did not hear a single word. He had frozen the moment Titus' father had spoken, blue eyes wide with shock. That _name. _He was sure he'd never heard it before and yet, it belonged to him.

The world suddenly shifted around Will. He glanced down at the page forgotten on Mrs. Device-Pulsifer's lap and felt a sudden overwhelming sense of love and loss.

"Who is he?" Will asked, drawing the attention of the entire room. Silence fell between them as both parents turned to look at him, an unreadable expression on either of their faces.

"I have dreamed about this man," he began, feeling the all too familiar tears rising to the surface. "For as long as I can remember. I have seen him walk through age after age in history. I have experienced countless dinners and walks through the park and lazy afternoons of just doing nothing with him. I have seen him laugh and cry and just the thought of his smile makes me go weak in my knees." Will took a deep breath, and plunged on before they could interrupt. Before he lost his nerve.

"Until today, I thought he was a figment of my imagination, but he isn't, is he? So who is he?"

"I'm sorry," Mrs. Device-Pulsifer began, and she truly did look very sorry. "But, Will, we can't explain everything to you. Not today. Memories are a fickle thing. Too much information might overwhelm you. If we supply too much ourselves, we might accidentally tamper with your mind, and that's the last thing either Newton or I want. This is something you need to figure out on your own."

The tears finally pooled over and Will hastily wiped them away. Hope he'd allowed himself to feel crashed around him like a tidal wave. He felt like he was drowning in disappointment and loneliness.

Once again, he felt the familiar presence of her hand on his knee. Will felt a sudden compulsion to look up at her.

"We're here for you," she comforted, a small sad smile appearing on your face. "We would love nothing more to help you figure it all out in whatever way and whatever time you need." She paused, eyes glancing down at the picture on her lap. Something in her resolve wavered, and the woman looked back up at him. "I can tell you this," she began. "Those dreams of yours? They _are _memories from a previous life. A life that Newton and I cared about very much."

He sniffed. "You knew me?" The whole idea sounded utterly ridiculous, except it made perfect sense. Both adults had seemed so familiar to him when he'd first laid eyes on them. If what they said was true, it would explain why.

The woman gazed up at her husband, smiling softly. After a moment, she nodded at her husband's unspoken question. Mr. Device-Pulsifer looked up and motioned for Will to come with him. "Come, Anathema and I have something we'd like you to have."

Will followed the man into the living room. He waited anxiously by the couch as Titus' father opened up a cabinet under the television and pulled out an old photo album. Quietly, he began flipping through it.

"I wish I had bumped into you years ago," Titus said, coming up to stand beside Will. "This sort of stuff fascinates me."

The boy offered him a tentative smile, his emotions still swirling around inside of him. A satisfied exclamation reached his ears and Will turned back around to find Mr. Device-Pulsifer pulling a single photograph out of its sleeve.

"Here," he said, handing the picture over. It had been printed o photo paper and was likely taken by one of those old-fashioned disposable cameras that had been popular ten to fifteen years ago. Will took the picture in his hand and held it carefully out in front of him, eyes wide with shock.

It was a picture of him wearing a tan colored suit, complete with vest, pocket watch, and a tartan bow tie. He was older in this picture, by what appeared to be twenty or thirty years, but still had the same mop of curly blonde hair, the same round face, the same bright blue eyes. Will felt as if he was looking at a picture of himself from the future, but dressed like a man from the 1800s.

"I look the same," he remarked, not knowing what else to say. He looked up at Titus' mother. "You recognized me when I walked in, didn't you?"

She nodded her head, a touch of sadness behind her eyes. "Most reincarnated souls don't share appearances of their former lives, but I imagine your case is a special one."

Will wanted to ask why, but his eyes were drawn to the other man in the picture. He was wearing nearly all black and was also dressed up, although his suit was a million times more stylish than the one Will had been wearing. A crimson tie hung loosely around the man's neck and his eyes remained hidden behind a pair of dark glasses. Despite the eyeware, it would be impossible for Will to miss the man's smile.

He was grinning from ear to ear, a long arm dangling around the older Will's shoulder, a glass of red wine in the other hand. To his own credit, the older WIll was beaming too. They appeared to be standing along some kind of footpath in the midst of a garden of...he squinted. What kind of flowers were those? Dahlia's?

"They look so happy," Will breathed, never wanting to let this picture out of his sight again. This was it. This was the proof that he wasn't crazy. This was the proof that the man in his dreams was real. "What happened?"

Obviously something had to have happened. Reincarnation was traditionally known as the process a soul went through when it died. So, Will had died and been reborn, likely soon after this photo had been taken based on his age in the picture.

Both of their faces fell.

"That picture was taken at our garden party," Mrs. Device-Pulsifer began. "To celebrate our engagement. We'd only known you two for about a year, but you'd become a big part of our lives in that time."

"Something about living through the end of the world really brings people together," Mr. Device-Pulsifer remarked. A part of Will's brain felt like he should have paid more attention to that comment, but he was too absorbed in what the man's wife was telling him.

"It was the last time we ever saw you. There'd been a fire, you see, and -" she broke off suddenly, wiping the tears hastily away from her eyes. "He came and told us in person two days later. Newton and I were heartbroken, of course, but he - he just couldn't handle being in London anymore. Couldn't stand to be around us anymore. He said it hurt too much, so he left. We haven't spoken to him in over sixteen years."

Will couldn't imagine what that kind of heartache felt like. He'd had a taste of what it might be each time he'd awoken from a particularly pleasant dream, but this man - this man had been alone for sixteen years, thinking Will was dead and gone forever.

"Did I love him?"

The question bubbled to the surface and for the first time, Will felt no apprehension or embarrassment in asking it.

"What do you think?" Titus' mother asked, holding his gaze with her own. "What do you feel?"

Will thought back to every dinner the pair had shared together. Every walk in the park, every evening of drinking wine and reading books by the fireplace. He thought about the rare and beautiful smile and those gorgeous golden eyes that took his breath away, and he _knew. _He didn't need Anathema Device-Pulsifer to answer it for him.

"I loved him then. I love him now. And I shall love him for the rest of eternity."


	14. Chapter 14

"You will not believe who showed up at school today!" Ann Marie exclaimed as she greeted Samael on a Tuesday afternoon. Normally, the girls didn't meet up on Tuesdays. Ann Marie had dance lessons and Samael usually had a movie night planned with Remiel. Her friend had texted earlier saying that her dance teacher was home sick and since Samael and Remiel still weren't talking, she had the evening free.

Samael said nothing, waiting for her friend to continue. After a few moments, Ann Marie rolled her eyes and huffed. Only then did the angel realize she was supposed to guess.

"Oh," she supplied, mind racing for an answer that would seem appropriate. She already knew what Ann Marie was going to say. The answer was obvious, but her friend didn't know half the story. It would be suspicious if Samael were to accurately predict the stranger that happened to appear at her school the day after she'd performed a miracle there. "Someone famous?" She wracked her brain for the name of some relevant human celebrity. "Taylor Swift?"

Ann Marie laughed. "No, but that would be _awesome,_" she stated. "Anthony. Crowley."

It took all of her effort to keep a straight face. Even though Samael knew exactly who Crowley was, Sam Everly had no reason to know such information. She refused to let the fear that filled her in that moment to manifest itself externally in any way.

"Who?" The sound that came out of her mouth seemed genuinely confused. Thank the heavens.

"You know," Ann Marie hinted, elbowing Samael lightly. "That guy. The one from the park that saved us. He transferred to our school. How insane is that?"

"Unbelievable." Crowley had decided to masquerade as a student? Why would he do that? Samael had expected him to show up, perhaps as a teacher or administrator. But a student? Did he suspect that she was masquerading as one of them? She supposed it made sense. Her corporel form looked young enough to pass as a teenager and Crowley would have sensed if she had altered her age in any way.

"Have you talked to him yet?"

Her immediate grin made Samael uneasy. "That's the best part. He approached _me_!"

That wasn't a good sign. In any normal circumstance, the angel wouldn't be worried. Ann Marie was a very pretty girl, by human standards, so it should come as no surprise if a boy approached her at school. Anthony Crowley, however, was no ordinary boy. Was it possible he was onto Samael already?

"Yeah. He said he was glad to see a familiar face. I bet starting at a new school halfway through your senior year is not exactly a fun time."

They had met up at the library today. For the second day in a row, rain had decided to blanket the greater London area. Normally, the girls would have met up at home, but Samael had requested they go here instead. Remiel was at the house still and the angel didn't know what to do when she was around him. She felt like he was still upset with her after what she'd said. Samael wanted nothing more than to make things right with him, but she also feared that patching things up would inadvertently put him in danger. Maybe, if she kept Remiel at a distance, Crowley wouldn't realize he was here on Earth.

"Are you ok, Sam?" Ann Marie asked, reaching across the table to place her hand on Samael's. The skin to skin contact only served to amplify the emotions coming off of the human girl. She was genuinely concerned. "You seem pretty distant today."

"Sorry," Samael breathed. And she truly was sorry. She didn't mean to worry Ann Marie with all this. Part of her wished she could confide in her friend, but she knew deep down that it would be asking way too much. "Remiel and I got into a pretty bad fight the other day and I think he's still upset with me."

"Yeesh," Ann Marie frowned. "What was the fight about?"

If only she had a normal life. This would be so much easier. She could explain everything, get all of her thoughts off her chest and work through all of these _emotions_. Samael knew if she just had someone to talk to about all this, it would make things so much better. "He and I have differing views on what the future looks like, I suppose. You know, after school is over. Remiel wants to stay here. I want to go...elsewhere." Another half truth. Samael was disgusted with herself.

The girl shrugged. "So? Doesn't seem like a bad thing to me. Seeing the world is all a part of growing up, right? I'd go crazy if I thought I would be stuck here forever."

"I think he feels like I'm abandoning him," Samael admitted and was surprised to find out that statement had been the complete and utter truth. Even though she couldn't explain the entirety of her situation, that didn't change the very real feelings that went along with it. "It's just been him and me for most of my life. I think he feels that if I leave here, he'll be all alone."

"You should let him know that's not the case," Ann Marie urged. "Tell him that he'll always be your family, no matter where you guys end up." She paused and turned to gaze out the window at the falling rain. "Sometimes people know stuff, deep down, but they need to hear other people say it to believe it. I bet if you sit down and talk to him, you'll both feel better about things."

"Yeah," Samael found herself saying as she followed her friend's gaze. She had a sudden urge to fly home and see Remiel right away. "You're right."

There was another pressing matter at hand, though. One she needed to get to the bottom of right away.

"So what did...Anthony want?" she cursed herself for hesitating when saying his name. She needed to focus. Ann Marie was the key to her finding Crowley's weakness. She couldn't afford to mess up now when things were going so well.

"He recognized me from before, I think," she explained, grabbing one of her long braids and twisting it around her fingers. Most of the time, Ann Marie chose to wear her hair up so it wouldn't be in her way. Apparently today was enough of a 'do nothing' sort of day where she felt comfortable leaving it down. "Wanted to properly introduce himself. I got to thank him again for what he did. It was mostly small talk, really. But he did sit next to me at lunch, although he didn't really eat much. And he invited me and some of the other kids to his house this weekend for a party he's hosting."

Interesting. He'd certainly jumped at the opportunity to interact with as many students as possible. Did that mean that Crowley didn't know who she was? What was his ultimate goal here? Did he hope to draw her out? Force her to perform another miracle? Was this party some sort of elaborate trap? She knew he had no real interest in getting to know the students in his class, so what was he really up to?

"Want to come with me?"

"Sure." Samael did not hesitate. There was nothing in this world or in Heaven or Hell that could convince her to stay home while her friend walked into the lair of a demon. "What time should I be ready?"

* * *

She returned home later that evening after the sun had gone down. Samael was tired. The past few days had been exhausting and she knew it was only going to get worse. All she wanted to do was go upstairs and lie down in her bed. Thoughts of golden eyes and shadowmen filled her mind, but she pushed them away. She didn't have to sleep to get some rest.

The house was quiet. Was Remiel even here? Part of her hoped he was. She wanted to talk to him and apologize for what she'd said a few days earlier.

At the landing, Samael spotted something out of the corner of her eye. Remiel's door was open and he was sitting on the edge of his bed, head buried in his hands. Long black hair was tied back at the base of his neck, but still some strands fell loose obscuring his face from her.

Despair and longing rolled off him in waves. Samael paused in the doorway, trying to put together the pieces of the puzzle before her. Remiel was miserable. She didn't have to be an angel to know that. Her question was: why? Was it because of what she'd said? Was it because he missed Heaven and wanted to go home? Was he afraid she would get hurt again? Did he fear for his own life?

A strange pressure manifested itself in her chest. Samael suddenly found it difficult to breathe. Tears pricked at her eyes as she gazed at the Archangel, wishing there was something she could do to fix all of this. All she longed for was Remiel's happiness. Samael let that longing flow through her, closing her eyes to simply focus on the emotions inside her, to try and understand. She held none of it back.

"Samael."

The Archangel sounded shocked. Samael opened her eyes and offered a tentative smile. His face was red and blotchy and the remnants of tears still lingered on his cheeks. In an instant, she was kneeling in front of him, taking his hands in hers.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered fiercely, gazing up into those soft brown eyes. "I shouldn't have said what I did. I know I hurt you and you don't deserve to feel like that. What can I do to make this better?"

Remiel didn't answer. He simply continued to gaze at her with sadness in his eyes. Samael sighed. "Remiel, you have to help me understand. All of these...human emotions are new to me. They're so strong sometimes and I don't know what to do with them." She squeezed his hand and offered up a smile, hoping he felt how genuine it was. "All I really want is for you to be happy and to keep you safe."

_Because I couldn't bare the thought of losing you. _Those words she kept close to her heart, afraid that if she voiced them out loud, they might come to pass.

"It's ok," the Archangel began, like he always did. No matter what she did it was always 'ok' for him. He never blamed her for anything. A hand came to rest gently on the side of her face. "It appears I had forgotten the reason for our stay here. You were right to call me out on it."

Samael shook her head in defiance. "No. It's not ok. I had no right to speak to you the way that I did. After _everything_ you've done for me." She paused, not exactly sure how to continue. Samael could feel her heart beating wildly in her chest. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out why. This was Remiel - her closest friend. There was absolutely no reason for her to be nervous around him. So why was she suddenly feeling so flustered? And why did her heart seem to sink as he pulled his hand away from her?

"I'm - " she began, trying to find the words. "I'm not trying to abandon you, Remiel. I'm not trying to 'get this over with quickly' so I can just get myself back to Heaven. I'm doing it to keep you safe. _You. _Once I take care of Crowley, you and I can go back _together_."

He did not answer for a long time, eyes fixated on a point in space behind her. What she wouldn't give to hear what he was thinking at that moment. Remiel had blocked off his feelings from her again and that worried Samael. Why would he want to hide himself from her? What could possibly be going through his mind that he wouldn't want her to know?

"It wouldn't be the same," he murmured. Before she had a chance to respond, the Archangel reached into his pants pockets and pulled out a small silver colored object. It was circular in shape and had two detailed feathers at the top surrounding a white gem on either side. As it shifted in his hands, Samael detected traces of rainbow reflections coming off the sides of the center stones. She was enamored by the small token. _Beautiful_.

"It's beautiful," she breathed, echoing the thoughts in her mind.

"I got it for you," Remiel murmured, a blush creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks. "I saw it in a shop in town and thought it would be a good fit."

In an instant, Samael's arms were around him. She pulled herself up on the bed beside him, closing the space between herself and the Archangel. At first, Remiel stiffened under her touch and Samael feared she had gone too far. As she moved to release him, he reacted, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her neck.

"Thank you," Samael breathed, closing her eyes. In that moment, the relief she felt was so intense that she nearly started crying.

Remiel pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. Her eyes flickered open and she found herself gazing into eyes that were burning with more intensity than she had ever seen. Her chest began to burn with anticipation, body trembling as he reached up to brush a strand of her hair away from her face.

What was this feeling? It scorched through her, setting fire to her veins that even Remiel's cool hands couldn't quench. What was happening to her? Why couldn't she stop shaking? She was breathing heavily, even though she didn't need to. Her body had decided it would be acting on its own now.

His face drew closer and Samael felt her breath hitch in her chest. A soft noise escaped her mouth the moment his lips brushed up against the side of her cheek. Remiel had kissed her before. It was a gesture that usually comforted her, brought a smile to her face. This felt different. The intensity behind his actions was causing them both to shake with inexplicable emotion. Samael wished he would show her what he was feeling. If he did, maybe she could finally begin to understand what was going on inside her own mind.

All too soon, the Archangel pulled away, hand lingering on her cheek. Quickly, Samael reached up, trapping it in place so he couldn't remove it. Not yet.

"Remiel, I - " she broke off, unsure of what to say. Samael _thought _she knew. Maybe. But how was she supposed to know for sure what all of this meant? From what she understood, angels didn't feel like _this_. What if she said something and upset him again? What if she misunderstood what was happening here?

What _was _this? This burning sensation under her skin whenever he touched her. This overwhelming desire to ensure he was happy. This unbridled joy she felt whenever he smiled and she knew that smile was because of _her._

Samael didn't have much experience with human emotions. They were messy and confusing and quite often felt too much like each other for her to sort out. But something about the feeling of this moment stirred something in her memory. She had felt this emotion before, or something very similar to it. Samael had felt _this_ the moment Crowley had laid eyes on her for the first time.

Was this _love_? Samael knew what love felt like. Angels were built of love, they loved all of creation, wholly and completely and equally. That kind of love was ever present, but it was cold and distant compared to what she felt toward Remiel in this moment. Crowley had felt this kind of love, for the briefest of moments before it had turned to rage. This was a very _human _kind of love, and it terrified her.

"It's ok," Remiel breathed, leaning in to place a familiar kiss on her forehead. "You don't have to say anything now, or ever, if you aren't ready. I am here for you, in whatever way you need of me. For as long as you want me to be."

Slowly, she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, trying to commit this moment to her memory forever. If she could, Samael would give up everything else in the world and stay here with him for the rest of eternity. For the first time, the thought of what she had to do weighed impossibly heavy on her heart.


	15. Chapter 15

Samael didn't know if she had expected anything specific before showing up at Crowley's house. She figured he had miracled something into existence to suit his needs but had no idea what it would look like. Not that it really mattered. She wasn't going to this party to look at the house or talk to the other students or anything else of that nature. She was here for Crowley. Nothing else mattered.

Still, the house was so…normal. It was your average two story family home with a pristine front lawn, white picket fence and everything. She felt like there should be something here to indicate that a literal demon inhabited this place. The humans living nearby should know what they were dealing with after all, but there was nothing.

"You sure you're alright?" Ann Marie asked as they parked by the side of the road. Several cars were already here and music could be heard coming from inside. "You barely said anything the whole ride here."

Samael shrugged, not sure how to answer. Her mind had been otherwise occupied as they had made their way to the party, and for once it hadn't been thoughts of Crowley. This time, her mind had slipped back into thoughts of Remiel. The two had officially made up and she'd spent a great deal of time with him that week. They'd gone on hikes through the woods, watched at least a dozen more movies, and even cooked dinner together. So far, nothing like what had happened the other night had transpired between them, and Samael wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"Come on, Sam," Ann Marie urged, turning the car off but making no move to get out of the car. "You can talk to me. Tell me what's wrong. Are you still fighting with Remiel?"

She shook her head. At least she could tell her friend that much. "No. I apologized for what I'd said. We patched things up earlier this week."

Ann Marie smiled. "That's good to hear." She said nothing further, waiting to see what Samael would do.

"Have you…" the angel trailed off, not entirely sure how to frame the question. "Have you ever been in love?"

The girl clearly had not been expecting this. She paused for a moment, the surprise apparent on her face. There was no judgement in her eyes, only a sort of soft compassion.

"Not personally, no," she answered finally. "But I think I know what it looks like. My parents are in love. My grandparents too. Why do you ask?"

Samael felt nervousness knot in her stomach. "How do you know that love is what you're feeling? How do you know when it's really real?"

"I think," Ann Marie began after taking a moment to collect her thoughts. "That if it's really love, you'll just know. You'll find yourself thinking 'wow, I really love them' and it will be the truest thing you've ever thought. That person will be your very best friend. Days spent with them will be good, just because they're there sharing experiences with you."

"I also think," she continued. "That it's hard for us to know what being in love is like at our age. My mom always says that in order to fully love someone else, you have to love yourself. We're still growing up, still discovering who we want to be. I think it is really hard for someone young like us to fully and truly be in love with someone, in the romantic sense anyway."

She paused and ran a finger through her braids. They were down again with the top part pulled back in a golden ribbon matching the hem of her long sleeved shirt. Ann Marie had put in a decent amount of effort into her appearance tonight, no doubt to try and impress Crowley. Samael wondered if she should be worried.

"There are lots of types of love though," Ann Marie pointed out. "And all of them are valid. If you really care about this person, you should tell them. You never know when it might be too late."

The way she said that last bit made Samael pause. It was incredible how good Ann Marie was at giving advice. For the first time, she wondered just where all that good advice came from.

Before she could formulate the words to ask, the girl reached out and placed her fingers on the ring that now rested on Samael's left middle finger. "Is he the one that gave you the ring? It's gorgeous."

A blush crept its way onto Samael's face. That was all the answer her friend needed.

"Oh. My. Gosh." She grabbed onto Samael's hands excitedly. "I need to hear all about him. Who is he? Where did you two meet? Are you together? How long? Give me the details girl!"

Samael felt like she was about to throw up. She couldn't answer a single one of those questions without a major omission of the truth. What was she going to do? Ann Marie obviously expected an answer and would likely refuse to let them out of the car until she was provided with one.

"Uh," the angel began to muddle her way through a reasonable explanation. "He's from back home - I mean, the place I lived before coming here. We knew each other through school. He's a bit older than I am." The words 'a bit' was stretching it, but she couldn't really say Remiel was over 6000 years old, now could she? "He likes movies. And he's a pretty good cook from what I've seen so far. We've had dinner together a few times. And I, well, I'm not sure if we're together or not. I only really started spending time with him a few months ago outside of my studies."

Ann Marie gasped. "He's cooked you _dinner_? And bought you jewelry? Girl, you guys are totally a couple. Has he kissed you yet?"

She blushed again. "Kind of? Uh, I've gotten a few kisses on the forehead. And the last time he gave me one it was on the cheek." Just the memory of that moment was enough to send a flash of heat through Samael's body. "I wanted to do more," she found herself admitting. "But I think he sensed I was nervous. He didn't push us to do anything else."

Her friend grinned. "And he's considerate? Sam, you have to tell this boy how you feel. Then give him a big ol' kiss. On the lips. Show him that you mean it."

This was ridiculous. Here she was, sitting in a car with a human outside of a _demon's _home talking about her love life. She was an angel, for crying out loud. She shouldn't even have a love life!

"Shouldn't we be getting inside?" Samael asked, hoping that Ann Marie would get the hint and drop it. With one final grin, she did and the two girls made their way into the house.

Samael spotted Crowley immediately, although it took her a second to recognize him. The demon had made himself look younger. The last time she'd seen him, he'd looked to be around the same age that Remiel did, somewhere in his mid twenties. In order to masquerade as a high school student, the demon had been forced to shave about ten years off his corporation's body. He was still tall, with shoulder length red hair and a pair of normal brown eyes.

The eyes are what threw her off. She had been expecting a pair of sunglasses, or maybe even the yellow serpentine eyes, but his looked completely normal. If she hadn't been able to smell the sulfur that clung to the air around him, Samael might have mistaken him for a human.

He was currently sitting on the armrest of the living room couch, surrounded by four other students. They all had their attention on him as he was describing just exactly what he'd done to get himself kicked out of his last school and how it was definitely no fault of his own.

Upon noticing Ann Marie and Samael entering the house, Crowley stopped his story and waved in greeting.

"Glad you could make it, Ann Marie!" he gestured for her to come sit down. "And you brought a friend." He smiled. Samael almost believed it was real. "The more the merrier."

"Anthony," Ann Marie began as she walked across the room. "This is my neighbor and friend, Sam. Sam, this is Anthony Crowley."

Samael said nothing, attempting a smile. It came across as nervous and uncomfortable, which was an understatement to how she was feeling in this moment. She felt like a mouse that had just voluntarily walked into a cat shelter right before feeding time. Each time she looked at his face, Samael remembered the feeling of his hot breath in her ears as he whispered words of hatred. Each time he moved his hands, she could feel them pressing her up against a wall, moments away from snapping her wings.

"It's nice to officially meet you," Crowley said. Samael murmured some sort of agreement, yelling at herself that she had to _pull herself together_ or she would be done for. She was an angel created to destroy this monster of a creature. She would not be terrorized by him. Not anymore.

"You guys want anything to drink? I've got snacks laid out in the kitchen. Please, help yourselves."

It was only then that Samael realized there were other students already here. Some were milling about in small groups chatting with their friends. Others had set up in the room next door and sounded like they were playing some sort of game. Occasional shouts of excitement could be heard through the walls.

"Sure," Ann Marie responded, to let him know she'd heard. "You want anything Sam?"

Samael nodded, wondering if Crowley would recognize her voice if she said too much. At the park, he hadn't been expecting to run into her, so maybe it hadn't mattered. Here, the demon was on the lookout for her specifically. She needed to stay far enough away from him to stay out of his attentions, but close enough that she could gather some information on him.

"What's up with you?" Ann Marie asked curiously the moment they were alone. "You're acting really weird tonight."

The angel sighed. Sometimes she hated how insightful this human was. "I'm really sorry," she began, trying to figure out how to say this in a way that wasn't an outright lie. "Anthony...reminds me of someone I used to know. Someone that I want to forget."

Ann Marie's face dropped. "Gosh, I'm so sorry Sam. I didn't know. Do you want to leave? We don't have to stay here if it makes you uncomfortable."

"No!" Samael insisted. "No, that's not what I want. I'll be fine, I promise. It's stupid really. You go ahead back in and hang out. I'm going to go check out what all that cheering was about."

"Ok," her friend said hesitantly. "You text me if you need to leave at any point, ok?"

Samael promised she would and gave a short wave before disappearing into the other room. A group of students were all standing around a table that housed about a dozen different colored balls. The angel moved toward them, smiling at several of them as she approached.

_Pool. _That's what the game was called. She was glad to see her mind was still able to fill gaps in her knowledge without much difficulty. It was a useful ability to have.

Several of the students introduced themselves to her and Samael stood back to watch the game progress. Half her attention remained focused on the players in front of her while the other half tried to focus on the conversations happening in the other room.

As an angel, Samael's hearing was a few levels above that of the average human. She could use her abilities to make the range extend further, but that would have been a mistake. Crowley would be on her in an instant and there were so many humans around. She couldn't put them in danger. So, the angel settled on being able to hear the different voices from her current position, even if she couldn't make out exactly what they were saying.

At some point about an hour into the party, Samael realized she could no longer hear Crowley or Ann Marie in the other room. She waited a few more minutes, just to be sure, before she began making her way through the house searching for them.

All in all, there were probably two or three dozen people here, which seemed like a lot for a student that had just started school that week. How had Crowley managed to meet so many people in so little time? And why had they all decided to come to his party this weekend? Was he using some kind of demonic force on them to manipulate them into coming? Surely Samael would have noticed something of that nature by now.

She found the pair outside, sitting on the roof above the back porch. Samael was sure that if she had been human, she wouldn't have noticed they were there at all. Their voices were hushed and it took every ounce of her concentration to hear what was said between them from her position leaning against the side of the house. She was as underneath them as she could possibly get, with only the rooftop standing between them.

"Do you keep in touch with your friends back home?" Ann Marie was asking. "I can imagine it must be difficult leaving them behind with less than half a year before graduation."

"It would have been, if I'd had any friends." Samael could hear the bitterness in the demon's voice, but he wasn't angry.

"You didn't have any friends?" Samael could feel Ann Marie's surprise. The angel hated that she couldn't see her friend, but at least the girl wasn't shy about displaying her emotions. If something happened, Ann Marie would unknowingly alert her. If Crowley so much as tried anything, Samael would kill him right then and there.

The demon snorted. "I didn't say that, exactly. I had a friend once." Sadness washed over him in waves. Samael felt her heartbeat start to increase. Was he actually going to open up to Ann Marie? True, there was a chance he could be lying outright, trying to manipulate her in some way, but there was also a chance he was telling the truth.

"He died."

Another wave of sadness and grief hit Samael unexpectedly and she almost dropped the plastic cup of juice she'd been holding. This time, the emotion had come from Ann Marie.

"I'm so sorry to hear that." Her comment was more than just a bystander's sympathy. Ann Marie understood what he was feeling. "I lost my best friend when I was twelve. Car accident."

"Fire," was Crowley's only response. Samael waited with bated breath, urging them to keep talking. This was the information she needed. This was the answer to her questions, she could feel it. She needed them to keep talking. "I was there. I tried to get him out, but it was everywhere. I couldn't do anything to save him."

A pause. Samael closed her eyes for the briefest of moments. Who was this friend that Crowley spoke of? Was it the same person that all of his love had been directed toward when they had met before? He'd mentioned a name before, but after everything that had happened, Samael had forgotten what it was.

"I should have died that day." He was not lying. Samael could feel it in the words that hung in the air above her. If it were true, than what did that mean? Holy water and a celestial blade were the only thing that could kill a demon. What had happened that would have caused him to come into contact with either one of those?

"There isn't a day that goes by where I don't wish I had."

Silence hung in the air. The angel tried to picture Ann Marie and Crowley, sitting on the rooftop away from all the chaos below them. It was a brilliant place to hide. The sun had gone down a while ago and the house's yard was dark except for the lights on the porch. No one ventured out there, meaning there was no one around to spot the two of them. As far as they knew, they were completely alone.

"Tell me about him," Ann Marie requested. Samael could picture the small, sad smile on her friend's face. From experience, she knew the human was an excellent listener. Crowley must have sensed that too, because he actually chose to indulge her.

"He was the kindest soul I knew," the demon began, a wistful tone in his voice. "Always willing to lend a hand when no one else would, no matter the consequences. He collected old books and read every single one of them, probably multiple times. I'm pretty sure at least half of his wardrobe consisted of tartan." The demon actually laughed at this, fondness seeping out of his very core. "Honestly, when has tartan ever been fashionable?"

A few moments passed before the demon spoke again. "He was always worried about doing the right thing. He had such faith that people could be good, even someone like me. I never told him how much that meant to me."

"People don't realize how delicate life is sometimes," Ann Marie began. "We think we're all invincible - like it could never happen to us. So we hold the most important things in because we're afraid, or we think 'surely, they already know' and then in the blink of an eye they're gone and the opportunity is lost."

Samael thought back to what her friend had said when they arrived. _If you really care about this person, you should tell them. You never know when it might be too late_. How had she not noticed the pain in Ann Marie's heart earlier? Samael had been so focused on her own problems, she forgot to pay attention to anything else.

"Mackenzie and I were like sisters," the girl was saying. "We did everything together, and I mean everything. Piano lessons, tap class, pee wee baseball. She and I were inseparable. It felt like part of me went with her when she left. Mackenzie was the bravest person I knew. She would take on kids more than half her size if they even tried to look at me funny."

Ann Marie laughed, as if she were remembering a fond memory that had been tucked away for a very long time. Then she quieted as the sadness returned to settle in her chest.

"I never told her she was my best friend. It was always something unspoken, something we both just _knew_. But I still wish I'd thought to say it out loud."

Someone slid open the glass door behind her and Samael stepped to the side. She offered up a quick smile to the boy that had entered the porch before turning her attention back on the enlightening conversation.

"I haven't really gotten close to anyone since she died," Ann Marie admitted quietly, so quietly, that Samael had barely been able to make out the words.

"Really?" Crowley seemed genuinely surprised. "You seem to hang out with that Sam girl a decent bit. At least, the two instances I've run into her, you've been there beside her."

_No. No. Nononono. _This was bad. Samael did not want the conversation to linger on her. The less Crowley focused on her, the better. She waited with bated breath to see what her friend would say.

"Yeah, it's kind of hard to explain with Sam. I feel drawn to her, in a way that I can't explain. The first time I met her, I felt this desire to get to know her - to really know her. Have you ever experienced that with someone?"

"Absolutely. I was drawn to him the moment I laid eyes on him. I could just tell, instantly, that he would be someone worth knowing." Samael could hear the smile in Crowley's voice.

"What was his name?"

Samael's stomach began to tie itself in knots. Her heart leapt into her throat and she swore she felt a sweat breaking out all across her skin. It was as if her body knew exactly what was coming next.

"Aziraphale. His name was Aziraphale."

Her blood froze. That was it. She remembered now. That was the name Crowley had called her upon first seeing her face. This friend that he'd lost was the person he was in love with. Aziraphale.

"It's a beautiful name," Ann Marie breathed. "Angelic."

This brought forth a chuckle from deep within Crowley's chest. "I actually used to call him Angel. It started off as an inside joke between us, but eventually turned into a form of endearment." Another pause - another wave of sadness and longing. "He was my angel. He made everything about life on Earth bearable, you know? I don't know how to exist without him. I used to believe that if anything ever happened to him, I would die. My heart would stop beating, my lungs would forget how to draw breath, I would become nothing. But now he's gone and I'm still here and I don't know what to do with that."

Was Crowley...crying? Samael wished there was a way she could see what Ann Marie was seeing. She supposed there was a way, but that would involve a miracle. She'd come too far tonight to give her position away now.

Something was nagging at the edge of her consciousness. _Aziraphale. _The name tugged at her, practically screaming that there was something _right here_ if she could only connect the pieces of the puzzle. Aziraphale. _Aziraphale_.

_I actually used to call him Angel. It started off as an inside joke between us._

No. It couldn't be. There was no way.

Aziraphale was an angel.

Or had been, anyway.

Samael shook her head. That was impossible. One of the Archangels would have told her. She'd been given a list of all the names of angels that Crowley had destroyed and 'Aziraphale' was not one of them. This had to be a mistake.

Crowley, the demon, had loved an angel. That angel had obviously cared very much for the demon as well - perhaps had even loved him back. And then, at some point, Aziraphale had died. It was impossible. Gabriel and Remiel wouldn't have kept information like this from her. If this was true, it challenged everything she thought she knew to be true. This changed everything.

She had to find out for herself what the truth was. Acting now, without knowing the entire story would be wrong. Samael had to find out exactly what happened to Aziraphale before Crowley could get around to causing any more harm.


	16. Chapter 16

Samael stayed at Ann Marie's house that night.

She'd thought long and hard about what to do. Instinctually, she had wanted to return home to Remiel and talk to him about all she had learned. Surely, he had to know something about this. He'd been around since the beginning. While he may not have been close with Aziraphale, Remiel must have known he existed. How could he not?

If he had known, then he'd been keeping a huge secret from her. How could Remiel not have told her that the demon she was supposed to hunt down and destroy had been in love with an angel? There was no way information that crucial could have slipped his mind. Remiel and Gabriel and all of them must have known and intentionally left any mention of Aziraphale out of their narrative.

But why?

There had to be a reason.

She didn't sleep that night, choosing to lie awake on the couch in Ann Marie's room and stare up at the ceiling, a million thoughts racing through her mind. She thought of Crowley and the agony he'd experienced up until this point with the death of his best friend. She thought of the confusion she felt over what she'd been asked to do. She thought of Remiel and his kind brown eyes and how there was no way he would have deliberately misled her - not about something like this.

Samael had thought she knew how he'd felt toward her. She thought that maybe, just maybe, he loved her in a very human way. If so, then he must understand how Crowley felt. So why would he not tell her that the demon felt love? It had been so obvious, even through the layers of pain. Had he just hoped she wouldn't have sensed it? Or that she would have pressed forward with her purpose without bothering to ask questions?

At dawn, she grew restless and got up. Meandering into the kitchen, Samael was surprised to find Ann Marie's father sitting at the breakfast table with a book laid out in front of him, sipping on a mug of hot coffee.

"Trouble sleeping?" He asked, looking up at her with a smile.

The angel shrugged noncommittally. "More of a morning person." Was that a lie? Traditionally, the term 'morning person' referred to someone who woke up early in the morning and went to bed early at night. That was not her. But couldn't 'morning person' also mean that the person simply enjoyed mornings more than nighttime? If that were the case, she could call herself a morning person and not feel guilty about it.

Mr. Gilmore chuckled to himself, then reached forward to grab a piece of toast from the plate in front of him. "Feel free to help yourself to anything you can find, Sam. Make yourself at home."

She nodded in thanks and went to pour herself a glass of water, if only to get the stale taste out of her mouth. From the corner of her eye, she saw the man flip through several pages of his book without reading through them, as if he were looking for a particular section.

"What are you reading?" she found herself asking, inexplicably drawn to the seat beside him. The man looked up at her, surprised she seemed so interested, but pleased nonetheless.

"I'm currently in school," he explained, the deep baritone of his voice soothing to Samael's ears. When she'd first been introduced to Ann Marie's parents, the girl had mentioned that her father might look a bit intimidating, but that he was a harmless old teddy bear. It was moments like these where Samael saw exactly what her friend had meant. "Working on a Master's in Ministry. My assignment this week for one of my classes is to write a reflection essay on miracles. I figured my bible was a good place to start looking for inspiration."

Samael found herself smiling. So far, she hadn't had much of a chance to perform real miracles of her own. Not important ones, anyway. While she'd been in Heaven, she'd learned a lot about them in preparation for her visit to Earth. She wondered what kind of miracles this man would write about.

"Have you come up with any good ones yet?"

The man clearly hadn't expected her to engage him in conversation. What normal teenage girl would? His dark eyebrows rose in surprise and a bright smile lit up his face. Samael could feel the excitement emanating from him. It made her smile.

"Well," he began, slipping into teacher mode easily, "there's a lot to look at with Jesus' miracles. Almost every chapter in the Gospels talks about them in one way or another. Then there were the plagues in Egypt, actions of people like Moses, Elijah and Elisha. Honestly, this book is filled with them. It's hard to focus on just a select few."

"What about miracles that happen today?" Samael couldn't help herself. She couldn't pass up an opportunity to talk to a human as intelligent a Ann Marie's father about his thoughts on present day miracles. Did the humans notice all the things the angels in Heaven did for them? Had they realized that not a single miracle had been performed in months? Could they tell that the doors to Heaven had been closed temporarily? Or did they not even care?

His face wrinkled in concentration. "You know, I hadn't thought about it from that angle. It would be interesting to compare today's notion of miracles to those in biblical times."

Quickly, he began to jot some ideas down on a notepad nearby. Samael took another sip of her water, wondering if she should go make some food to keep up appearances. It wouldn't do for her to be found out now.

"What are you two up to?" a voice asked from the doorway. Samael turned to see Mrs. Gilmore standing in the entrance to the kitchen. She was dressed in a large grey t-shirt and plaid pants and looked as though she had only just woken up. Her dark curls stood out in all directions and Samael figured she was in dire need of a cup of coffee.

"Samael's helping me with my assignment on miracles."

The woman smiled at her husband. Samael could feel the love radiating off both of them. Ann Marie had been right. Her parents were in love. "Fine by me, so long as she doesn't write the paper for you."

Both adults chuckled to themselves as if they were sharing some sort of inside joke. Samael looked back and forth between them, noticing the way Mr. Gilmore's eyes followed his wife as she bustled about the kitchen preparing breakfast. She smiled, but for once it didn't reach her eyes. A tight feeling wound itself around her chest as the angel realized she likely would never have anything similar to what these two humans shared. After the whole situation with Crowley was resolved, she would return to Heaven. And there was no room for personal feelings in a place like that.

"Have either of you ever seen a miracle before?" Samael asked suddenly, not entirely sure where the question had come from. Something inside her made her feel like it needed to be asked.

Ann Marie's parents both paused in thought. Silence filled the space around them. The quiet here allowed Samael to focus her attentions elsewhere in the house. Creaking floorboards told her that her friend would be making an appearance soon.

Sure enough, a few moments later, all three entities in the kitchen heard the incoming stampede of feet bounding down the stairs. Three shuffles later and Ann Marie poked her head inside, breathing in deeply like a wolf on a hunt.

"What's for breakfast?" she asked excitedly. "I'm starving."

"Patience, child," her mother scolded. "Your food will be ready when it is ready. Now, go sit down and let your father and I think in peace. Your friend asked a very interesting question and we are trying to come up with an equally interesting answer."

Ann Marie stuck her tongue out playfully and skipped over to join Samael and her father at the table. The angel felt a pang in her chest. Was this what it was like to have parents? To be part of a family? She was surrounded by an aura of peace and love and belonging. It was almost too much for her to deal with.

The Gilmores had been quick to open up their home to Samael. She had always thought that's just the type of people they were - warm, welcoming. After the admission she'd overheard the previous night, the angel wondered if Ann Marie's parents had been so wonderful as a 'thank you' for being a friend to their daughter, who had been through so much already in her relatively short life.

"Oh!" Mr. Gilmore exclaimed, suddenly, causing the angel to nearly fall out of her seat. "We have seen one, right Caroyln? It must have been, twenty or so years ago now, right? The Soho bookshop?"

Ann Marie's mother frowned in concentration. "I remember walking down that street and seeing all those emergency vehicles. It was intense. I'd guess closer to sixteen or seventeen years ago though. I think I was earlier on in my pregnancy with Ann Marie."

"What are you guys talking about?" Ann Marie asked through a mouthful of her father's toast. The man snatched it back playfully, earning himself an indignant huff from his daughter.

"You father is doing a paper this week on miracles," Mrs. Gilmore explained. "And Samael here asked if we'd ever seen one."

"Wait," the teenager gawked. "You've seen one? An actual miracle? When? Tell me everything!"

And so, as Ann Marie's parents began to describe the happenings at a Soho bookstore back in the late 1990s, Samael began to feel a familiar sensation, like tugging at the edge of her mind. Something was familiar about this. She just couldn't put her finger on what it was.

"Hang on," Ann Marie muttered through another mouthful of toast she had somehow miraculously gotten her hands on. Quickly, she pulled out her phone and rapidly began to type something in.

"Ha! Got it." The girl leapt from her chair and rushed over to the living room, careful to mind the single step down onto the carpet. Seconds later, she had turned the television on and was projecting the video found on her phone to the big screen.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome. Tonight we bring you a story from central Soho where an antique bookshop has been engulfed in a terrifying blaze of fire. First responders are on the scene as well as your local news chopper. Here, you can see the flames rocketing up into the air as firefighters desperately try and put it out."

It was a news report recorded at least a decade and a half ago about a fire that had burned down a local bookshop in the Soho area. As the newscaster described the scene, the footage cut to an aerial view likely recorded by the chopper he had mentioned.

The flames were as terrifying as he had said, but not just because of their height. As Samael stared at the TV screen, her mind tried to make sense of the wispy black tendrils visible throughout the orange colored fire. Normal fire, no matter how out of control, did not have shadowy images such as these.

This was Hellfire.

Samael's eyes instantly flew to the title of the video, her heart already climbing into her throat.

'Local Man Emerges from Raging Fire Unscathed.'

She didn't know what to think. Hellfire, here on Earth? For this to have happened, a demon would have to have brought it up from the pits of Hell and then set the fire themselves. What reason would they have to destroy a bookshop?

The scene shifted to a quick shot of some of the firefighters, dressed from head to toe in their bright yellow gear. A handful of them were standing off to the side, their masks strangely absent from their faces. Samael watched as one of them turned to glance around his shoulder.

Her heart stopped beating.

"Pause the video."

Ann Marie obliged almost immediately, freezing the man's face in place just left of the central part of the screen. The quality of the video wasn't stellar, but it was good enough for Samael to realize that the being standing there in full firefighter gear, minus the face protection, had a pair of startling violet eyes.

Now who did she know that had eyes like those?

"Keep playing it."

Ann Marie hesitated. "Are you alright, Sam?"

No. No, she was definitely not alright. Thoughts were swirling around in her mind, threatening to overwhelm her. Thoughts of a demon filled with love, an angel no one seemed to remember, and a tragedy no one wanted to acknowledge.

_He died in a fire. I was there. I tried to get him out, but it was everywhere. I couldn't do anything to save him. _Crowley's words echoed throughout her mind as her heart desperately tried to reason that it wasn't so. She had misunderstood something - accidentally put the pieces together wrong.

"Keep playing," she insisted, eyes fixed on the screen.

The newsreel resumed, cutting back to more footage of the blaze. The hellfire danced in the morning sky, clawing its way upward to the clouds, as if it were reaching for Heaven itself. Samael felt sick to her stomach, but she forced herself to keep watching. It was the only way she would ever understand.

The next shot showed an image of a group of firefighters from the back. Two of them were grasping the ends of a hose, bracing themselves as it roared to life. A stream of water blasted through the window of the shop, striking the nearest Hellfire with a sharp 'hissing' noise.

If she hadn't been looking so carefully, Samael might have missed the blue-ish purple sheen that coated the surface of the water blast.

_I should have died that day._

Hellfire _and_ Holy Water? It didn't make any sense. Humans wouldn't know to try and counteract demonic fire with angelic water. They wouldn't have been able to get a supply large enough in such a short amount of time. Not without divine intervention.

_He collected old books and read every single one of them, probably multiple times._

"No…" she breathed. No. No, this couldn't be true. There _had _to be a reasonable explanation for this. She refused to believe that - that…

That this tragedy had been specifically engineered to 'take care' of Crowley and Aziraphale. It was preposterous to even consider such a horrific thing and she felt guilty for thinking so poorly of the Archangels. Yet, how could she be so sure? How was she supposed to verify things for herself?

"Sam!" Ann Marie sounded panicky now. "What is going on? You're scaring me."

The angel shook her head, trying to clear her cluttered thoughts. She tried to respond to Ann Marie, but found that her tongue was tied. There were no words to be had as a single overwhelming thought rose to her mind.

"I need to go there." She spoke as if hypnotized. No matter how she tried, she could not tear her eyes away from the screen for a second.

"I need you to take me to that bookshop."

Ann Marie snorted, then frowned as she realized Samael wasn't joking around.

"Wait," the girl began. "Are you serious? Sam, what has gotten into you? You look like you're about to be sick. I should get you back home. Maybe Remiel can help."

"No!" Samael practically shouted, panic rising in her chest. If Gabriel was in on this, there was no telling where Remiel fell into it all. If one of the Archangels was hiding things from her, who's to say they all wouldn't do the same to get what they wanted. "Ann Marie, if you don't take me there, I will go by myself. I will walk there if I have to. I promise to explain later, as best as I can, but right now I need to be in that bookshop."

_I need to find out the truth._

The girl sighed, a worried frown appearing on her face. Samael knew she rarely asked Ann Marie for favors. She also knew that if her friend refused, she could always miracle herself there. It would alert Crowley to her presence, but maybe that was a good thing. Maybe he would be willing to explain what everyone else had conveniently forgotten.

"Fine," she huffed, grabbing one more slice of toast. "But it better be a damn good reason to get me up and out of the house this early on a Saturday morning."

Thirty minutes later, Ann Marie pulled up next to the corner shop, parking her car a few spaces down the street. Samael had barely said a word the whole way there. She'd been a nervous wreck thinking about everything she had learned in the past twelve hours. It felt like the fabric of her life was slowly beginning to fray at the edges and she was about to go do something that would either mend it, or tear it in half completely.

"You can wait here if you want," Samael murmured as she moved to unbuckle her seatbelt. "I shouldn't be too long."

"The hell with that," Ann Marie growled. "You are acting super weird right now and I am legitimately worried for your sanity. I am coming with you while you do whatever it is that you need to do here and then we are going to get food and you are explaining everything. Capiche?"

The angel simply nodded in agreement, wondering if Ann Marie would have spoken to her in the same manner had she known what Samael really was. Taking a deep breath, she unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed out of the car, advancing toward the shop.

After the fire, it had been rebuilt. Samael wasn't sure what the store had been before this, but it was a Waterstones now and still had its 'Grand Opening' sign posted in the window. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized the shop was actually open this early on a Saturday morning. Gritting her teeth, the angel stepped inside.

Even from the front steps outside, Samael had been able to sense something. The moment she crossed the threshold, it intensified a hundredfold, knocking the breath right out of her lungs. This place was _loved_, in every sense of the word. There was love everywhere - clinging to the walls, swirling in the air around her, seeping in through the floor and ceiling. And it wasn't just love for this location. Samael could sense the love that had been shared between the angel and the demon. It was ancient, reaching back at least several hundred years.

"No," Samael said, holding a hand up as Ann Marie rushed to her side. She quickly made her way back of the shop, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, which was very difficult considering the hurricane of emotions that were currently waging war against her entire being. "I'm fine. There's just a lot to take in here."

At the back of the shop sat a collection of black leather chairs and some coffee tables. Samael took a seat at one and closed her eyes, releasing a deep breath of air to calm her nerves. "This won't take long." At least, she hoped it wouldn't. "Just hang tight for a little bit longer."

Ann Marie remained silent. Samael felt bad for everything she'd subjected her friend to this morning, but she couldn't stop and explain now. She wasn't even sure if she should be explaining anything at all, but what else could she do? If what she feared was true, then everything Samael thought she knew was a lie and she was truly alone in all of this. She didn't want to be alone, but she had to uncover the truth, no matter how painful it might be.

She had to know.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: I wrote a companion piece to this chapter that I am planning on posting here soon. It tells the story of some of these events from Crowley's perspective. Samael doesn't quite catch all the details towards the end. If you want to search for it now, it's called "A Perfect Day" on Archive of our Own under the name Beckers522. Enjoy!**

* * *

Once the image of the bookshop left her sight, Samael was able to focus on the energy around her. In her mind, she thought of Crowley - his lithe body, flaming red hair, dark sunglasses hiding golden eyes. A thin tendril of angelic energy escaped from her body and she willed it to fill the room - to show her what she so desperately needed to see.

When she opened her eyes again, Samael was still in a bookshop, but it was not the same one. This one was dusty and cluttered and she could not see a single book that was newly printed anywhere on the hundreds of shelves that surrounded her.

A man was standing at the front of the shop, bustling around from one stack of books to another. From this location, his face was blocked by a rather large bookshelf. Samael imagined she was standing there beside him and suddenly she was. Although she could still feel the leather chair firmly underneath her, the angel was able to move around the room seemingly at will.

She had never done this before, and didn't really know how it worked. The man's back was currently to her as he flipped carefully through the top book of the stack nearest to him, humming as he worked. He wore a cream colored suit in a style reminiscent of the 1800s. He was on the shorter side, slightly plump around the middle, with a halo of white-blonde curls.

The bell above the door chimed once as it opened, alerting the man to the presence of a customer. He turned his head to address the newcomer and Samael couldn't hold in her gasp. Suddenly, it all made sense.

This shopkeeper was the angel Aziraphale. There was no doubt in her mind. She didn't need to wait to hear the newly arrived Crowley's greeting to confirm her suspicions. Samael _knew_ because she recognized him. The angel Aziraphale looked almost identical to her.

Rather, _she _was almost identical to Aziraphale.

No wonder Crowley had reacted so strangely when he'd first saw her face. He had taken one look at her and for a moment, the demon had thought she might be his long lost angel. No wonder he had been so angry when he'd learned the truth. She'd been designed to destroy Crowley and engineered to look like his lost love. She'd been made to torture him in every way possible.

The thought made her sick to her stomach.

Samael watched with rapt attention as the scenes before her began to unfold. They played out in a sort of fast-forward motion. She could only witness the happenings in the bookshop, and for the first hundred years or so, hardly anything of interest occurred. Every few decades, the demon would pop over. The pair would share a few drinks, and he would leave again.

She had no way to tell what year it was, at least, not by the way Aziraphale dressed. He hardly ever changed his style. It was only on the rare occasions when Crowley visited that she was able to get an idea of how much time had passed.

The pattern changed sometime in the 1990s or early 2000s. She could tell because Aziraphale's financial ledgers had been replaced with a very old looking computer. From what she'd seen so far, he was an angel very stuck in his ways. It was probably safe to assume that whatever technology that inhabited his shop had likely been forced upon him and was at least a decade out of date.

It started with a phone call. Surprisingly, Azirpahale moved quickly to answer it, as if he'd known it was the demon on the other end.

"I'm afraid we are most definitely closed," the angel responded, just in case it had been a customer calling.

_Aziraphale, it's me. _Samael could hear his voice through the landline. Crowley sounded tense. _We need to talk._

Aziraphale looked nervous. "Yes, yes. I rather think we do."

_Really? _He sounded surprised. _Ok. Usual place._

So they had met up before this. Enough that they had some sort of usual place. Was this how their relationship had evolved? Going from enemies to acquaintances to friends to lovers, all while trying to keep out from under the watchful eyes of Heaven and Hell.

"I um…" the angel trailed off, looking rather pale. "I assume this is about…"

_Armageddon. Yes._ The demon hung up.

Armageddon. Samael remembered learning about that botched plan before she'd come down to Earth, but not once had anyone mentioned an angel had been involved. They'd pinned the whole failure on Crowley.

The demon showed up not long after and Samael watched as the friends got properly sloshed. They drank for hours, reminiscing about all the good times they had while on Earth. It was a pretty impressive list, which Samael should have expected. They'd been here since the beginning. Of course they would have countless experiences.

Eventually, the pair got drunk enough that their sentences became less coherent and the topic of conversation devolved into random things, like ducks. And dolphins. Crowley seemed to be quite stuck on the dolphins. Samael didn't really understand why.

And then she did. She watched them sober up and formulate a plan to stop Armageddon. The angel was in awe of them both.

After that night, the bookshop remained empty. Aziraphale returned once to pack a bag and then both he and Crowley disappeared for years. Samael watched as time sped by. Not a single soul entered the building in all that time.

Then, all of a sudden, they were back. The pair burst through the bookshop doors dressed in rather strange attire. Was Aziraphale wearing a magician's cape? And why did Crowley look like a fancy waiter?

"Armageddon is days away and we've lost the Antichrist."

Everything after that happened so fast, Samael could barely keep up. Aziraphale spent a while at his desk poured over an old book, writing notes furiously down in his notebook. He left for a while, then returned only to sit down on the couch and cry. Samael could feel the torment in his heart as he struggled between what was good and what was right. His soul was aching and Samael could tell that in that moment, all the angel wanted was for things to go back to the way they were.

Time marched forward and Aziraphale reached out to Heaven and talked to the Metatron. He confronted a human and accidentally stepped into the portal, discorporating his body instantly. Samael watched as fire from a fallen candlestick slowly spread across the pages of all Aziraphale's precious books. In an instant, the whole bookshop was ablaze.

This wasn't right. In the broadcast, Samael had been certain she'd seen hellfire. And Crowley had been here when the shop burned down. There had to be a mistake.

The door burst open and Crowley was there. He was screaming, calling out Aziraphale's name. He was angry and filled with despair. Not because his angel had been destroyed, Samael realized, but because he knew he would never see Aziraphale again. Armageddon was less than a day away and they'd failed to stop it. The forces of Heaven and Hell would get their war and everything would end.

As suddenly as it had burned to the ground, the bookshop was back, its former glory restored. There were a handful of extra books that had been added to Aziraphale's collection, but all in all, things seemed pretty normal.

And they were, apart from one small detail. In the time that she'd witnessed, Samael had noticed that Crowley had a tendency to visit the bookshop once every few decades, give or take twenty years. He stayed for a day or so and then disappeared once more until the next time.

After the Apocalypse was thwarted, Crowley came by Aziraphale's bookshop nearly every day. The love in the air was palpable, as was the fear and longing. Samael had expected them to realize their feelings much sooner now that Heaven and Hell had decided to leave them to their own devices, but things continued along as they always had apart from the increase in time the two beings spent together.

Finally, Samael noticed something changing. A year or so had passed since the day the world almost ended. Aziraphale went about his usual morning routine, locking up the shop as he left for his weekly shopping trip. Moments later, Crowley burst through the door with a giant paper bag in his arms. Samael watched in confusion as he hurried to the back of the shop and started...cooking?

Samael was in awe. The demon was cooking something, secretly, while Aziraphale was gone. She knew it was a secret because Crowley kept sneaking a look out the window, as if he were keeping watch for when Aziraphale returned.

Whatever he was making was not turning out well. Samael wasn't an expert in the culinary arts, but she knew enough to tell that that pile of brownish goop was not going to be a pleasant experience to eat.

"Hello?" a voice sounded from the doorway. Samael heard Crowley let out a string of curses under his breath. "Crowley, my dear, are you here?"

Aziraphale was back. Faster than she could blink, Crowley had moved to intercept his friend in an obvious attempt to distract the angel from whatever mess he had made. They exchanged pleasantries and Samael did not miss the hint of affection in either of their eyes. It was impossible to hold back the smile that appeared on her face. Their love was infectious.

After a while, the pair left and did not return until dark storm clouds rolled in, blocking out the sun setting in the sky. Crowley was the first to cross the threshold, miracling his clothes dry in an instant as he made his way toward the couch.

"What's wrong, my dear?" Samael heard the angel ask, the concern ringing clearly in his voice. She felt her heart begin to ache. Aziraphale really cared about Crowley.

"S'nothing," the demon mumbled as he threw himself down onto the couch, legs dangling over the edge. Samael noticed he had left a sizable space by his head, presumably so Aziraphale could sit down beside him. She was surprised when the angel moved to take a seat in the armchair instead.

"I had a wonderful time today." The admission was quiet, but it filled the room with so much warmth. It was a wonder they hadn't felt it.

Crowley groaned, downing an entire glass of wine that Samael had missed him summon. He looked miserable, even when hiding behind his famous sunglasses. What had happened to put him in such a fowl mood?

"Impossible," came the grumble from the couch. "Today was a right disaster." He downed another glass of wine.

"Whatever are you talking about, my dear?" Aziraphale sounded genuinely confused. Samael wondered what had transpired throughout the day that would cause them to be so out of synch with each other. From the outside, it looked like the angel had really enjoyed whatever they had done together that day while Crowley had loathed it. She wished she could have followed them around to find out what had happened, but there was a limit to her abilities. This also wasn't the event she was trying to see. It intrigued her all the same.

"Come on, angel. You're telling me that not a _single _inconvenient thing happened today?"

"Well," Aziraphale responded, his hands wringing together nervously. What was he so worried about? Was Aziraphale trying not to upset his friend even more than he already was? "I mean, perhaps I noticed some unfortunate events. But that doesn't constitute a disaster of a day."

Samael glanced over at the window, trying to judge how much time had passed. It was dark outside, but that could have been partially due to the rain clouds that still hung overhead. The event she was searching for happened in the morning, but she had no idea how much longer. Would it be the next morning? A month from now? A year? Her stomach felt like a ball of lead just thinking about what was to come, but she steeled herself against her anxiety. She had to see this through to the end. She had to know what had been hidden from her for so long.

"Oh, Aziraphale," Crowley was saying when Samael looked back. His change in tone drew attention to the tears that were now in the angel's eyes."Please don't cry. Look," the demon huffed. He looked so vulnerable in that moment, like he was torn between standing where he was and running over to his friend to comfort him. "I didn't mean for the whole day to go up in flames, alright? I just - I wanted today to be perfect for you. But I mucked it up and I'm sorry."

The shock on Aziraphale's face was evident. Samael found herself surprised as well. From what she knew about Crowley, he didn't seem like the type of being to try to make a day perfect for anyone but himself. Aziraphale was the exception to that, apparently.

"You did all of this for me?"

Now it was Crowley's turn to look shocked. Samael would have laughed if she wasn't so caught up in the moment - if she didn't know what was coming. "Of course I did, angel," he breathed. "Who else would I have done it for?"

The moment of tenderness that passed between them was enough to bring tears to Samael's eyes. Thoughts of Remiel flooded her mind and she hated how much it hurt her to think about him. He had to have known. So why had he kept this from her?

"I thought you were just being nice. I didn't realize - "

That comment seemed to anger the demon. "I'm not _nice. _How many times do I have to tell you?"

"But just look at what you've done," Aziraphale tried to reason with him. "You planned all of these wonderful things so that my day would be special. You were kind, considerate, thoughtful - "

He was cut off once again by the demon's protest. "For _you _Aziraphale," Crowley stressed. "It's all for you, and you alone."

Samael watched, stunned, as the demon reached up and removed the sunglasses from his eyes. The golden orbs were dancing with emotion, black pupils blown wide. Love exuded out of every part of his body, filling the entire bookstore. Could Aziraphale sense it? Did he know how much Crowley loved him?

"It always has been."

They stared at each other for some time after that. At some point, Crowley had moved himself into a sitting position on the couch. The two beings were sitting with their knees practically touching, staring into each others eyes like nothing else in the world existed. Samael's face flushed as she thought about a similar moment she had shared with Remiel. She wondered how it would end this time.

"Crowley?" Aziraphale spoke first, hesitantly, as if he were afraid of what the demon might say. "Would you mind if - Well, I'd very much like to - that is, if you'd be amenable to it - "

What in the world was he trying to say? From what she'd observed so far, the angel was always so eloquent. Here, he'd been reduced to a blubbering fool. What had happened?

Apparently Crowley understood what his friend was asking. A whisper 'please' escaped his mouth as he nodded his head almost imperceptibly and then they were kissing.

Samael immediately looked away, feeling extremely guilty for invading their privacy like this. Surely this was wrong. Aziraphale was _dead_ for someone's sake! And here she was spying on memories of him. It wasn't right. It couldn't be. But how else was she supposed to learn the truth?

"I love you, Crowley."

The words cut through the air around her and the tears Samael had tried so desperately to hold back overflowed onto her cheeks. She could feel it everywhere, surrounding her, filling her, protecting her. There was nothing in Heaven or on Earth as beautiful as this.

They sat there, Aziraphale in the armchair, Crowley tucked on his lap, for a long time, simply holding each other. The professions of love, both verbal and physical, continued and Samael did her best to look away, to give them their privacy. Eventually, Crowley stood up from the chair and pulled them both over to the couch, where they got much more comfortable, wrapped gently in each other's arms.

Samael turned her back to them, choosing to focus her attention on surveying the street outside. It didn't take long for the lovers to fall asleep behind her.

Night had fallen. The rain was over for now. All was quiet.

Dawn came, and nothing changed. There was no sign of angel or demon stirring in the bookshop, but time hadn't seemed to speed up at all for Samael. She felt a nervous energy take hold of her. Something was coming.

Without warning, a figure was standing in the room beside her. Samael whirled around, a gasp upon her lips. She brought her hands up to stifle the sound, but it didn't matter. No one here could see or hear her.

The stench of sulfur hit her nostrils a moment after the figure turned to face the sunlight filtering in through the windows. The blinds had been drawn the night before and the demon make quick work of remedying that. Sunlight poured in, illuminating thousands of dust particles floating through the air. Samael half expected either Crowley or Aziraphale to wake up, to see the danger they were most certainly in, but they slept on, faces displaying mirroring expressions of peace and contentment.

From here, Samael got a good look at the demon. He had greying skin, with scraggly white hair and ink black eyes. He was dressed in an oversized trenchcoat and plaid scarf despite what appeared to be a beautiful summer morning outside.

The demon looked around the room, inhaling the scents around him and grimaced. There was a hatred in his eyes that unnerved Samael. Even though she knew there was nothing he could do to hurt her in this moment, a flash of fear still rocketed through her body.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to warn Aziraphale and Crowley of what was to come, but just like in her nightmares, Samael was rooted to the floor, her voice helpless in her throat.

Unlike the fire that had started before the Apocalypse, this one roared to life immediately. Samael choked on the smoke as the hellfire began to consume the books around her. The demon grinned at his handiwork before sliding over towards the door.

"I hope you and your pathetic angel _burn_, Crawley."

With that, he was gone. The hellfire was everywhere, heat so intense, Samael felt like she was being boiled alive.

Crowley was awake instantly, his golden eyes filling with disbelief and fear.

"Angel, wake up!" he shouted desperately. "We have to get out of here!"

He practically pulled the angel off the couch as bookcases around them burst into flame. Crowley did his best to shield his love from the blaze, but it was all around them and growing rapidly closer.

In an instant, a pair of wings materialized on the demon's back. He wrapped them posessively around the angel as embers drifted through the air, scorching the already black feathers.

"Aziraphale," Crowley vowed. "I am going to get you out of this, ok? I will keep you safe, I promise. I refuse to lose you. Not now, not _ever._"

The angel did not speak, and Samael could hazard a guess as to why. She wasn't even there and her lungs were burning. Even if she'd wanted to say something, she wouldn't have been able to. She couldn't imagine what Aziraphale had felt in that moment.

Crowley turned to look out the window and his whole body froze, eyes flying even wider. Samael felt her heart stop beating momentarily as she followed his gaze.

Standing here, it was so clear. She hadn't been able to see it from the news broadcast, but now there was nothing hidden. Just on the other side of the window stood a line of seven bodies, shoulder to shoulder, all facing the raging inferno. To call them people would be a lie. 'People' traditionally referred to creatures that were human in nature. These seven were anything but.

Samael recognized the Archangels instantly. Gabriel, Michael, Uriel, and Sandalphon, dressed in fireman's clothing, looks of pure hatred on their faces. The other three, she did not know, but could only assume were demons of similar rank.

"You can't do this to him!" Crowely screamed. "He's one of you! This will destroy him! You agreed to leave us alone, you BASTARDS!"

Something cracked overhead, bringing down a shower of embers onto the embracing pair. Crowley lowered his head and tucked in his wings to completely shield the angel beside him, his desperation mounting in waves.

Samael's eyes were drawn to the violet ones she had loved so long ago. They had been the first thing she had ever seen. So beautiful and pure. Now they were warped and twisted beyond recognition. Hatred burned within the violet orbs and Samael felt her heart break. Not one of the Archangels made a move to save Azirpahale and Crowley. In fact, they did just the opposite.

Gabriel and Michael moved to the side as Uriel and Sandalphon stepped forward, a giant fire hose grasped between their hands.

"NO!" Crowley had just enough time to scream as the blast of holy water shattered the window and struck the demon's wings, sending both him and Aziraphale sprawling across the room. Samael watched in horror as his wings flew open the moment he collided with a burning bookshelf, sending sparks raining down on the pair.

Aziraphale screamed in pain. Samael could see cracks of blackness spreading rapidly across his skin where each of the burning pieces of wood had touched him. Instantly, the black feathery shield was back in place. Crowley knelt over Aziraphale, pulling the angel as close to his chest as physically possible.

"Nononononono," he was chanting to himself, tears streaming down his face. "I can't lose you, angel." The screaming quieted to a dull whimper. It took a moment for Samael to realize that Crowley was using all his strength to miracle the pain away. He knew that the angel was already lost. It was only a matter of time.

"I'm so sorry...my dear…" Aziraphale wheezed, reaching a hand up to cup the demon's cheek. "This is...all my fault." He gasped, drawing in breath feebly like a fish stuck on dry land. "If...I hadn't - "

Crowley cut him off with a kiss. An overwhelming mixture of love and despair washed over the room. Samael couldn't stop the tears from coming. How could this have happened? What had they done that was so wrong? They didn't deserve this! No one did.

"I love you Crowley," Aziraphale managed to get out with the next breath. A cough wracked his entire body, only allowing for more smoke to make its way into his lungs, killing him from the inside out. "Don't….ever...forget."

"_Never_!" the demon hissed fiercely. He kissed the angel again, with all the passion and love he had to give. "Aziraphale, I love you. You're everything to me, angel! _Please don't leave me_!"

The last request died as a sob in his throat. Aziraphale's body shuddered as the tips of his fingers turned black. Bit by bit, his body started to crumble to ash. Crowley clung onto the angel desperately, his screams filling the burning air around them.

"Save him!" the demon cried out, lifting his head up to gaze at the flames licking at the ceiling. "You're supposed to be All-Powerful, right? So _save him_! He's the best of them all - always has been. He's all Love and Goodness and Forgiveness. That's what you're all about right? So _save him_. Please. I'll do anything!"

Aziraphale's body continued to crumble in his arms. With the last bit of the life he had left, the angel leaned up and pressed a kiss to Crowley's lips. The demon let out a sob and melted into it, clinging to Aziraphale until the angel faded away into ash and dust.

"She won't answer to the likes of you," a cold, callous voice said from outside. Samael turned, rage filling her as she looked out at the Archangel standing a safe distance away.

Crowley howled in rage and leapt to his feet, rushing the ethereal entities before him. Gabriel only smiled. It was hollow and filled with a hatred Samael had never known existed.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much. You'll cease to exist soon enough."

Another blast of holy water hit Crowley in the stomach, knocking him to the ground. Samael waited for the inevitable screams of pain, but what emerged from Crowley was a different sound entirely. It was a scream, but one of anguish and loss and despair. Nothing like what one might expect when trying to destroy a demon with holy water.

The look on the Archangel's faces were that of disbelief quickly turning to pure horror. Gabriel turned wildly toward the shorter demon standing near him, his violet eyes wide with terror.

"What is going on?" his voice shook with fear. "Why isn't he a pile of steaming goop?"

"I don't know," buzzed the demon, their eyes wide with shock. "It should have worked. The only reazon it failed lazzt time waz becauzz they switched bodiez."

"He can't actually be immune to holy water," Michael breathed as the demon got to his feet once again. "Can he?"

Samael watched as the holy and demonic entities shared a look. Then, deciding that this conversation would be much better had in a different location, far away from elements that could destroy them, they vanished.

Crowley stumbled out of the building, soaked to the bone in holy water, his eyes wide with shock and pain. First responders had arrived and were trying to approach him now, but he acted like he couldn't hear them. As if they weren't even there.

Closing her eyes, Samael let out a cry of despair. The Archangels and Princes of Hell, they had done this. They had _destroyed _this beautiful thing between two creatures that had done nothing. All Crowley and Aziraphale had longed for was each other. What was so wrong with that?

She could still hear Crowley's screams in her ears as she felt the visions fading around her. The seat beneath her grew more firm, but the sounds of the present bookshop still evaded her. Samael could feel the tears still hot and wet on her cheeks. She could feel the despair settling around her like a blanket made entirely of ice.

When she finally opened her eyes, the weight of all she had seen threatening to tear her apart, Samael found herself face to face with a pair of burning golden eyes and a knife pressed firmly up against her throat.


	18. Chapter 18

Immediately, Samael's eyes flew to Ann Marie. She hoped against hope that the girl had found some excuse to leave. Maybe she'd had to use the restroom or had gotten bored and had decided to browse a different aisle. There was no way to tell how long Samael had been sitting in that chair, but the sun was still rising, so it couldn't have been more than a few hours.

The deafening silence in her ears told her that the demon had frozen everything around them. She'd known he'd had the ability to do that, but had yet to see it in action. To her horror, when Samael looked beside her, she saw Ann Marie frozen in place, her eyes wide with terror.

The girl was conscious.

"Let her go," Samael began. "I'll do anything you ask, just please. Keep her out of this."

Crowley snarled, not bothering to hide the hatred in his eyes. "You don't get to make demands of me, _angel._ Did you really think I wouldn't keep my eyes on this place?"

"Crowley!" the angel tried to reason, aware that she was walking on very thin ice. "She's an innocent. She doesn't deserve this. Please, let her go."

Something shimmered in the depths of his golden eyes. He pressed the knife further into her skin, but Samael noticed it was the flat side of the blade that was touching her. As long as neither one of them moved, she would not be harmed.

"You dare," the demon began, "to waltz in here and invade my memories. To hide behind the false face of a human as you try to plot my extinction. I let you off easy last time." He dragged the blade lightly across her skin. "This time you won't be so lucky."

"Stop!" A voice shouted. Samael turned in horror as she looked over at Ann Marie once more. "Don't hurt her."

"Shut up!" Crowley hissed. "Thisss doesn't concern you, human." Samael shivered at the snakelike tone that entered his voice.

"Crowley," Samael began, trying to draw the demon's attention away from Ann Marie. "You are right. I deserve everything you want to do to me and more. I saw what Gabriel and the others did to you, and it was worse than unthinkable. We all deserve to be punished. But not Ann Marie. She's done _nothing._"

Now, Crowley just looked irritated. He scoffed at her and rolled his eyes. "Would you lay off it? I'm not going to hurt her. I only froze her to keep her from interrupting us. She wasn't supposed to see a thing, but she's been hanging around _you _too much that it didn't take all the way."

Samael allowed her eyes to narrow, suspicion written all over her face. "How do I know I can trust you?"

He actually laughed at that one. It was bitter and harsh and stabbed at her like a knife. "You can't know. It's ineffable."

The demon said nothing more to elaborate. Samael could feel her heart racing in her chest. What did he want from her? Before, he'd seemed determined to leave killing her for last. Was he just trying to torment her now? Would he use her to try and lure more angels out of Heaven? What was his goal right now? What was he trying to do?

"Crowley," she tried, failing to keep the emotion from her voice. "I didn't know." She had so much more she wanted to say, but the words just wouldn't come.

"And now you do," he pointed out. "It changes nothing."

"It changes everything!" Samael cried, a fresh wave of tears flowing from her eyes. "What they did to Aziraphale was unforgivable. I can't even begin to tell you how truly sorry I am."

He growled at her. "I don't want your _sympathy._" The demon was practically shaking now. "Your guilt won't bring him back. I want revenge for what they did to him!"

"Then kill me!" Samael pleaded. Without moving a single muscle, she poured all of her heartache and sorrow into the space between them, hoping that he would feel it and understand. "Punish them by destroying their hope. Rid them of their weapon against you. Take me out of the equation." She paused, hanging her head as the grief threatened to overwhelm her. "I want no part in this anymore."

In an instant, Crowley's hands were grabbing the front of her shirt, lifting her up out of the chair. He slammed her angrily up against the bookshelf, knife still hovering nearby.

"You don't get to get off that easy. I've spent seventeen years in agony after losing him and you are ready to call it quits after one day? I don't think so. I made you a promise and believe me, _angel_, I intend to keep it."

It was at that exact moment that Samael's phone decided to ring. Fear pulsed through her and she tried desperately to hold it back. By the sudden change in the demon's demeanor, she could tell her efforts had been futile.

He released her and took a step back, knife dropping to his side.

"Pick it up," he ordered, voice dark and low.

"No." Samael couldn't. She wouldn't. The only one who would be calling her right now was Remiel. If she picked up now, her deepest, darkest fears would come true. No matter what he might have done, she didn't want him to die.

Crowley bared his teeth, raising the weapon and taking a step toward Ann Marie, who to her credit did not make a single sound despite how terrified she looked. "Pick it up now, or I'll change my mind about your friend."

This is the point where Samael wished she could have claimed to make the decision quickly. The only right thing to do here was to pick up the phone and deal with the consequences that followed. She could not subject her friend to any more of this insanity. Ann Marie didn't deserve this.

But picking up the phone would put Remiel in danger and Samael wasn't sure she was strong enough to save him. Crowley seemed to have the upper hand each time they met and now that she knew the truth, Samael didn't know if she had it in her to destroy him. Not after everything that had happened.

He took another step and panic set in. "Ok!" she shouted and pulled the phone out, pressing the answer key before Crowley could do anything else.

"Hey," she breathed, using all of her willpower to keep her voice steady and absent of fear. If she tipped Remiel off that something was wrong, he would come and find her. That was absolutely the last thing she wanted him to do. "What's up?"

_Samael? _She heard the concern in his voice and her heart gave a small twinge. She didn't know what to think - what to feel. _Are you still over at Ann Marie's? Would you be able to come home for lunch? I'd like to talk to you about something important. _

Samael kept her eyes locked on Crowley's, looking for any indication he'd figured her out. She just had to hold herself together for a little longer. There was no need to panic.

"Yeah," she breathed. "Sure. I can do that. No problem."

_Samael? _The voice of Remiel asked. _Are you alright? You sound upset. Did something happen?_

She closed her eyes, forcing the tears back. Samael's heart was in her throat and she felt like she could barely breathe. Looking back over at Crowley, she saw a wicked grin appearing on his face as something in his mind clicked together.

"You've got another angel down here with you," he taunted, eyes flashing with excitement.

"Remiel, listen! You have to - "

The phone disintegrated in her hand, crumbling to dust. Samael felt her breath catch in her throat as she tried to make another sound, but nothing came out.

"I think we're done here," the demon said finally, twirling the knife in his hands.

"No, please, Crowley," she begged. "Wait - "

The hilt of the weapon struck the side of her head and Samael's world went dark.

She awoke to find Ann Marie kneeling beside her, calling out her name.

"Oh thank god!" the girl cried, flinging her arms around Samael's neck. "You're ok. I was so scared he was going to kill you!"

Samael glanced around wildly. Time had started up again, which meant Crowley was no longer here. How long had she been out? There was no law enforcement yet, so maybe it hadn't been that long.

She struggled to sit up, but Ann Marie forced her back down.

"No," she argued. "You have to take it easy. He hit your head really hard. I called in the attack and the paramedics are on their way."

"How long was I out?" Samael rasped, her heart alight with fear for Remiel. No matter how angry she was at the Archangels for what had happened, she still cared for him. And he hadn't been there in the vision. Maybe he hadn't known. Maybe Remiel hadn't been part of the decision to destroy Aziraphale and Crowley.

"A minute," Ann Marie responded. "Maybe less. Sam, what the hell happened? You were sitting there super quiet and still doing this weird thing with your eyes and then all of a sudden Anthony was here and I couldn't move and he had a knife and - "

Samael cut her off before the girl could overwork herself. Quickly she tugged the ring from off her finger, channeling as much celestial power into it as she dared.

"Take this," the angel urged her friend. "It will keep you safe. Don't go home yet. Go to the library and wait for me there. If you don't hear from me within an hour, well then...then - "

Then what? Samael didn't have time for this. She had to leave now, while she still had a chance to save him.

"It's been nice knowing you, Ann Marie."

As she went to stand, the girl's hand gripped her arm. Samael looked up and saw panic reflected in her eyes. The angel breathed in deeply. Her friend had been through a literal hell this morning without a single explanation as to what was happening around her. In any other circumstance, Samael would have soothed her and took the time to answer every question Ann Marie had. But she didn't have that luxury at the moment.

"Go to the library. I will come for you there. I promise." She gave Ann Marie her best smile. "You don't have to worry about me. I'm tougher than I look."

And then she was gone - miracling herself away from the bookshop in Soho and back to the small little country house she was beginning to call home. Samael raced through the front door, calling out Remiel's name. Maybe Crowley wasn't here yet. Maybe she would have time to warn him and they could get out. They could disappear again. Re-imagine themselves once more and leave behind all of the hurt and the pain. The half-truths and deceit. They could start over - just the two of them. It would all be ok again. It had to be.

There was no response. The panic in Samael's heart grew to a crescendo as she passed through the doorway into the livingroom and froze in place. Not of her own volition, but because a tendril of demonic energy had latched into her and rooted her to the floor. No matter how hard she tried to move, the angel could not break away.

Crowley was here. Crowley was in her home. Crowley was standing in her living room, knife shining in the sunlight with Remiel pressed up against the wall, arm across the Archangel's throat.

Samael tried to scream, but just like in her nightmare, the sound was swallowed up before it was allowed to emerge. She watched with wide eyed horror as the demon brought the knife up to Remiel's cheek and began to speak.

"Archangel Remiel," he hissed. "I'd say it was nice to see you again, but that would be a lie. And you know how terrible those can be."

Remiel said nothing. He didn't fight back. He simply gazed back at the demon with frightening resignation in his eyes.

"What?" Crowley taunted. "No retort? No desire to defend yourself? Not even for her sake?"

The Archangel's eyes rose to meet hers and his seeming indifference turned immediately to anguish. He made a move to go to her, but Crowley pressed the knife down a bit harder.

"I don't think so," he began, a twisted glee in his voice. "You know what this is, don't you? You know what it can do?"

"Yes," Remiel breathed, never once taking his eyes off Samael. She tried to call out to him, all the things she wanted to say trapped on her tongue with no way out.

_No,_ she screamed inside her mind. _Please don't do this! I love him. I love him and I don't care what he's done. Please don't take him away from me!_

"Why did you lie to her?" the demon asked, never wavering with his position. He was well aware that having two angels in the vicinity could prove to be a problem if he slipped up even a little bit.

"At first I didn't tell her the full truth because Gabriel asked me not to," Remiel began, finally looking away from her. Samael felt her heart breaking. This couldn't be happening. She had held out hope that somehow he hadn't known. That he'd been blindsided like she had after learning what the other Archangels had done. To hear that he had known and gone along with it because Gabriel had asked broke her heart in two. She felt anger flare to life inside her. "He thought knowing the full story would make her hesitate to do what had to be done. You were killing angels, after all. We had to do what was necessary to protect them."

Crowley did not interrupt, and Samael suddenly realized that he wanted to know the answer. He wanted to know the truth as to why Aziaphale had been stricken from all of the history books - why the Archangels pretended he had never existed. Was it a vain attempt to quell their rising guilt? Had they finally realized that what they'd done had been wrong? Or were they so disgusted by an angel loving a demon that they had decided Aziraphale had no right to be remembered at all.

"But then," Remiel continued, softly. "After choosing to stay behind on Earth to care for Samael, I had a change of heart. I realized that what we'd done was wrong and that what we were doing now was even worse. But I continued to omit the truth because I was afraid Samael would hate me for what I'd allowed to happen." He looked up at her once more, brown eyes shining with tears. "As she should. I may not have pulled the trigger, but I stood by and watched it happen."

Fury welled inside her. Samael had trusted him, above all others. She'd been so happy when he'd decided to stay on Earth with her, happier than she would have been than if it had been Michael or Uriel or even Gabriel. Remiel had been her favorite from the start and there hadn't been a single day where he hadn't _lied _to her.

She was angry, and hurt, and felt betrayed - like a knife had been wedged between her shoulder blades, but that didn't change the fact that he was still her very best friend. Remiel had said he'd realized that he'd done wrong. He'd had a change of heart. Surely that had to count for something. Even if she did hate him in this moment, she knew deep in her heart it wasn't permanent. The traitorous muscle still cared for him more than anything else in the world. And nothing, _nothing_, he had done or would ever do would make her wish he were dead.

"That's all well and good," the demon sneered. "But your sentiments won't bring Aziraphale back."

"Neither will your reckless destruction," the Archangel countered, not showing an ounce of fear. "Nothing any of us can do will bring him back."

"If you think," the growl erupted from his chest and Crowley pressed the knife in deeper, almost to the breaking point, "that any of your reasoning is going to convince me to spare your life, you're wrong."

"I am not asking you to spare my life," Remiel stated in the calmest voice Samael had ever heard. "I am asking you to spare hers." She felt her heart leap into her throat and struggled against the bonds that held her. If only she could get to him. She would whisk them away to a remote corner of the universe where no one would ever find them. Forget Heaven. Forget Hell. It would be only them. In that moment, Samael would have done anything to save him.

"I love her."

Three things happened simultaneously immediately after those words were uttered.

A pure, fiery beacon of love washed through her, burning away everything that held her down. Samael broke free of her bonds and launched herself across the room toward Remiel, wings spreading out behind her. She was going to knock the demon away, gather the Archangel up in her arms, and they would be gone. He would be safe. She could deal with the aftermath of everything else later, after Remiel was safe.

Feeling her bonds breaking, Remiel turned toward her, eyes shining with love for her and only her. She was everything to him. His comfort when he was sad. The reason for his laugh. She was his hope for the future - his very best friend. Remiel did not want to die with her not knowing how he felt. He'd waited too long to say it already.

Remiel's confession reached Crowley's ears and rage burned throughout his entire being. How _dare_ this angel try to play to his emotions. How dare he try to save his own life by mocking all that Crowley had lost. He was going to pay.

The hellforged blade slid into angel flesh like a knife through butter. The Archangel crumpled to the ground.

"NO!" Samael screamed as she pushed past Crowley to kneel at Remiel's side. He looked up at her with tears in his eyes, but he was smiling.

"I'm so sorry I kept so much from you," he breathed, reaching up to grab onto her hand. "I wanted to tell you so many times, but I was so afraid. I didn't want to lose you."

Grief sunk its claws into her heart and began to pull her down, but Samael fought it back. She tore at Remiel's clothes, tearing the buttons as she went, trying to get to the wound, miracle already flowing from her fingertips.

"Nononono," she breathed, eyes taking in the familiar black tendrils of the hellfire poison making its way through the Archangel's body. He gasped in pain, trying to catch his breath.

Samael whirled around to face the demon, who for some reason was still standing there, a look of utter shock and agony on his face.

"How do I fix this?" she pleaded. There had to be a way. There had to be something that could reverse this in case the knife ever fell into the wrong hands or cut into the wrong target. He wasn't lost yet. _She could still save him._

"I'm sorry," Crowley was mumbling, his eyes wide, pupils barely visible. "I didn't know. I thought he was lying and I just got so angry. I didn't mean - "

"Crowley!" Samael shouted. The desperation in her voice snapped him out of the spiraling abyss that was his thoughts. "How do I save him?"

The demon shook his head and Samael's world shattered. She turned back to Remiel, tears spilling from her eyes. This couldn't be the end, it just couldn't!

A hand touched the side of her face, wiping away the tears as they fell. Samael leaned into the touch, wanting to close her eyes and block everything else out but the two of them, but afraid that the Archangel would vanish into thin air if she ever took her gaze off of him again.

"I'm so sorry, Samael," he breathed. It was only then that the angel realized she hadn't responded to him earlier.

"It's ok," she murmured, echoing the sentiments he constantly shared with her. "I forgive you, for all of it."

The relief on his face was instantaneous and overwhelming. It didn't matter if she had spoken the truth or not. This was all happening so fast and she'd had no time to process it. How could she possibly know if she forgave him or not? She'd never done it before and had no idea what it meant to forgive. There were so many questions she still wanted to ask him, but it was too late for questions now. Samael struggled to hold back a sob as she smiled back at him, cradling his head in her lap. Slowly, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

_Please, _she begged anyone that was listening. _Save him. I don't want to lose him. I'll do anything, just please don't let him die._

The very tips of his fingers began to turn black and Samael knew she only had moments left. What did she do? What could she possibly say to him that would convey to him how much he meant to her?

Sorrow that had been slowly filling her up since the previous night threatened to consume her. Samael bent over, burying her face in his chest and let out an agonizing sob. She couldn't do this. Remiel was all she had left in the world. She could never go back to Heaven - back to the angels that had plotted and murdered and deceived her. Without him, she would be all alone. Humans came and went so quickly. Their lives were so fleeting compared to that of an angel. Without Remiel here with her, Samael's life would be and endless pattern of love and loss.

"Please don't leave me," she cried, feeling him starting to slip away. Her eyes met his and he smiled one last time.

"I'll always be with you," he whispered, and then he was gone.

Samael knelt there for what felt like an eternity, staring at the empty space in her arms where the Archangel had just been. If only she had gotten here faster. If only she had fought a little harder. If only she'd trusted him to tell her the truth if she had just _asked._ Maybe all of this could have been avoided.

She shut her eyes, bringing back every memory of Remiel she could muster. The angel was terrified of forgetting his face or the way his laugh sounded. Five months was not nearly enough time together. What about Christmas, and cold winter nights by the fireplace? What about the first rainfall in spring? She hadn't cared about these things before. Now Samel found she would have given up anything to experience them with Remiel by her side.

"If you are still here," she spoke into the sorrow-laden air around her, "when I open my eyes, you are going to wish you'd never existed in the first place."

Eventually, Samael did open them. Crowley was nowhere to be found. For the first time in her short life, the angel was truly alone.


	19. Chapter 19

Samael could have knelt there on the living room floor for a minute or a century and it would have all felt the same. Emptiness filled her completely, turning her insides to ice. Her knees had begun to ache a while ago, but the angel didn't feel it. She wondered if she would feel anything ever again.

How had everything changed so quickly? Twenty-four hours ago, she had been sitting just in the other room, enjoying a stack of warm pancakes and laughing at something Remiel had said to her. What she wouldn't give to rewind the clock. Forget about all the lies and the pain. It was all just too much.

If only she hadn't gone to that stupid party. If only she had gone home that night. If only she hadn't seen that news broadcast or gone to the bookshop. If only she had trusted Remiel to tell her the truth when she'd asked instead of searching for answers on her own.

Would he have told her the truth? He'd been hiding it for so long, Samael couldn't honestly say she believed he would. She hoped he would, but hoping and believing were two very different things.

_Would you be able to come home for lunch? I'd like to talk to you about something important. _His words from earlier echoed in her mind. What had he wanted to talk to her about? Part of her hoped he had been planning on coming clean. She realized that it wasn't his inaction that had devastated her so much. His omission of the truth to make Heaven and himself look better was what stabbed at her , what the Archangels and Demon Lords had done to Aziraphale and Crowley was unthinkable and the fact that Remiel had known what they were going to do and let it happen was somehow worse. But he said he'd had a change of heart, and she believed him.

Samael understood where he had been. At least, she thought she did. Although it was a distant memory, she recalled how separate Heaven had felt while she was there. The angel had spent countless hours looking down on Earth and the people who inhabited it with nothing more than a mild curiosity. It wasn't until she physically came here and experienced the planet for herself that it finally felt real to Samael.

If the Archangels had told her from the beginning that an angel and a demon had been caught consorting and had been punished accordingly, would she have thought it such a tragedy? Before Earth, Samael thought she had understood love. It was only through her experiences here that she learned how truly wrong she'd been. There was a very real possibility that Remiel had been through a similar change of heart - just as he'd said.

Hadn't she done the same thing to him that he'd done to her? Samael had hid the truth about running into Crowley at the park. She'd neglected to tell Remiel the demon had started attending school with Ann Marie or that she had gone to his house alone.. Maybe it wasn't an equal amount of deceit, but it was enough for her to understand his reasoning.

She should be angry still, after everything that had happened, but Samael couldn't bring herself to feel anything but an overwhelming sense of loss. What was she going to do now?

Eventually, the angel pulled herself to her feet. She couldn't explain why, but something tugged her in the direction of the stairs. Forcing one foot in front of the other, Samael slowly ascended, the familiar creaking sound of the wood beneath her sounding so far away.

Her feet came to a halt at the door to Remiel's room. The door had been left open and there was a single wooden box, no larger than a medium sized book, sitting at the foot of the bed. Samael approached it, eyes glossing over the other small trinkets that had been left behind. Like her room, Remiel's didn't have much to it. There was a bed sitting across from a small desk in the corner. A single dresser stood up against a wall right underneath the only piece of artwork in the entire house, a painting of the ocean.

The box was cool and smooth and barely seemed to weigh anything at all when Samael picked it up. Its surface was bank except for a small latch on the front side, keeping the top securely fastened. There was no lock. The moment she tugged on it, the lid came open.

Several bits of paper were folded and tucked under a small black box. Samael moved the box aside and pulled out the sheets of paper, flipping through them one by one.

There were a total of three. The first one she picked up looked like some sort of official paperwork. After a moment of study, Samael realized it was the deed to the house. She carefully set it aside.

The second bit of paper was a photograph. She smiled, tears coming to her eyes as she recognized the Archangel's gentle smile. This was the first photograph they'd taken together right after Samael's wings had healed enough for her to put away. They'd been sitting outside together, enjoying the feeling of the summer sun beating down on them. Samael couldn't remember where she'd found the camera. It had been tucked away in a drawer in some remote corner of their house. She had asked him for a photograph and he'd obliged and then he had forgotten about it.

Her fingers traced over Remiel's face. She missed him. It was a feeling more terrible than anything grief she had felt apart from Crowley's. With human grief, there was always an underlying shred of hope. Maybe, someday, they would see each other again. Human lives were finite until they were infinite. There was always the possibility for a second chance. Angel lives were infinite until they were finite. There would be no second chance for Remiel. He was gone forever and no amount of hope would bring him back.

The third page he'd kept was also a photograph, but it was not one of her. Samael was shocked to see the image displaying the likeness of Crowley and Aziraphale. It was a photograph taken some time ago and depicted the pair sitting side by side on a park bench. Neither one was looking at the camera and she wondered if they even knew the photograph was being taken at all.

Why would Remiel have something like this? It didn't make any sense. Samael turned the photo over in her hand and noticed something scrawled on the back in the Archangel's familiar script.

_Anathema Device._

Who was Anathema Device? And how was she connected with all of this? The thought that Remiel may have been keeping another secret from her made Samael's heart ache. She was tired of all the secrets and the lies and the hatred and the fighting. When would it ever stop?

Finally, Samael turned her attention to the black box. It was small and easily fit into the palm of her hand. There was no writing on it, no discernable patterns or pictures. Just a pair of tiny golden hinges.

She opened the box to find it empty. The bottom was lined with a plush black velvet and had a single divett in the center that likely had enough room to hold a single ring.

A ring...Ann Marie!

Samael practically fell off the bed in panic. How could she have forgotten her friend? How long had it been since she'd left the bookshop? Ann Marie had probably experienced the worst morning of her life and Samael had just left her alone. What kind of a friend was she?

Without another thought, she miracled herself away, not caring in the slightest if Crowley happened to sense her doing it.

* * *

The clay pot shattered against the wall, sending an explosion of dirt everywhere into the air and adding to the already growing pile around the room. Crowley stood in the center of it all, his red hair a mess, shirt untucked, pants strewn with dirt. He was breathing heavily, even though he didn't need to, serpentine eyes wide with rage.

Crowley looked down at the nearest plant shaking in fear and grimaced. Without a second thought, he picked it up by the base and flung the entire thing against the far wall. He watched unfazed as its remains littered the floor.

Try as he might, the demon could not keep his thoughts away from those blasted angels for long. He felt tremors in his knees and barely made it to the couch before his legs gave out completely. Crowley buried his face in his hands as sobs wracked his body. He felt that angel's, Samael's, shock and despair over and over and over again. Heard the pain her voice. Saw as her hope had vanished. It was all too familiar to him.

How was he to know the Archangel had been telling the truth? Of course, he'd known it was possible he loved Samael - Aziraphale had fallen in love with a demon, after all. That didn't mean that every angel that claimed love knew what it meant. But Remiel had. And Samael had loved him back, even if she hadn't said it out loud.

Crowley couldn't feel love. That was an angel's prerogative. But as a demon, he most definitely could feel the absence of love. After what he'd done, there had been a gaping hole in Samael's heart that Crowley knew from experience nothing would ever be able to fill.

What he'd done was unforgivable. There was no way around it - no way he could justify the action away with mentions of cruel decisions made decades ago. The other angels may have deserved it, Remiel may have deserved it, but Samael had not.

He'd destroyed the very thing that he'd held so dearly in his heart. The greatest of these is love - wasn't that how the saying went? Crowley had destroyed love, the most important thing in life itself, and yet he was still here.

Why was he still here?

That was it, then. The finality of it all seemed to clear his mind. His body stopped shaking. The tears finally stopped falling. He sat up and looked around the room with cool detachment.

Part of him had always held onto hope that She was still watching, still listening. That She had seen all that had happened and was working on Her own perfect justice in Her own perfect time. Now, after everything he'd seen, Crowley knew this wasn't true. She didn't care what they did. She stopped caring an eternity ago.

Crowley stood up from the couch and reached down to brush the soil from his pants. It was so dark, you could barely see it, but knowing the stain was there bothered him. A snap of his fingers brought a new set of clothing into existence. He walked toward the bedroom door.

In the corner of his bedroom stood a plain wooden door leading to a closet. Crowley never opened it. He had no reason to when all of his clothes could be miracled into existence. So the door remained closed, day after day, week after week. Closed, but not empty.

Several times a week, an object would materialize on one of the many shelves that had arranged themselves to line the walls. The object would squeeze itself gently into the next available space, careful not to tip over and spill the precious contents within.

Every so often, the closet would realize its shelves were nearing capacity and would simply reconfigure itself. Add a few extra square feet here, put in another shelf there. Anything that it had to do to make sure the contents of this room were ready and waiting for when they were needed.

Eventually that day came. Crowley opened the door, allowing a dim light to fall into the space for the first time. His face remained stoic as serpentine eyes took in rows upon rows upon rows of tartan patterned thermoses.

It was time to get to work.

* * *

The relief Samael felt when she walked through the doors of the library and saw Ann Marie there was coupled with a rising anxiety inside her chest. What in the world was she going to say? Samael would tell the truth, her friend deserved that and much more, but the angel was worried it would be too much for her. Ann Marie was quite literally all she had left in her life. The thought of her being afraid or angry or running away was a terrifying one for Samael.

Ann Marie was sitting at a table in the corner, her head buried in a book that she was most definitely not reading. Samael hadn't seen her when she'd first walked in, but she could sense the holy aura attached to the ring on the girl's finger. It did not take her long to locate the human.

Upon laying eyes on Samael, Ann Marie stood up from her chair and walked over to embrace her friend. Samael clung to the girl, tears already spilling over onto her cheeks. Would this body ever run out of them?

"Are you ok?" Those were the first words out of Ann Marie's mouth as the girls sat down. In that moment, Samael knew she did not deserve a friend like this.

"What kind of question is that?" the angel laughed through her tears. "Are _you_ ok? I can't even begin to imagine what you must be thinking right now."

Ann Marie smiled. It was soft and hesitant and so unsure, but it was something. "I'm thinking that you owe me one hell of an explanation." The words were gentle, not accusatory. Samael couldn't stop herself from reaching across the table and squeezing the girl's hand, just to make sure she was real.

"I don't even know where to start," Samael breathed, and she truly didn't. There was so much that needed to be said and the words simply wouldn't come.

"Start by telling me about yourself," Ann Marie suggested. "We can get to the rest of it all later. Is your name really Sam?"

The angel nodded. "Samael is my full name. Everly is not. I don't actually have a last name."

A frown appeared on Ann Marie's face, but it didn't look sad or disappointed. The girl simply looked as if she was kicking around a thought in her head. Samael waited to see if she would lend a voice to it.

"Remiel and Samael," the girl mused. Hearing the Archangel's name brought a stab of pain to her chest, but she managed to hold back the tears. "And Aziraphale too. That's the third angelic name I've heard in as half as many days." She looked over pointedly at Samael and the angel's mouth dropped. How was this human so incredibly perceptive? It was unnatural.

"There's...uh," she paused, wondering if Ann Marie already knew. "There's a reason for that."

Ann Marie's eyebrows raised ever so slightly, waiting expectantly for Samael to continue.

"I am an angel."

There was no shocked expression that appeared on her friend's face. No exultant shout of victory that she had known all along. Ann Marie was silent as she took in the new information.

"Why don't you have wings?" the girl finally asked, pointedly. There was an almost teasing manner to Ann Marie's voice. Samael wondered if her friend was messing with her or if she truly believed and was trying to make light of the intense events that had transpired earlier that morning.

"They're...tucked away," Samael responded, glancing around the room. There were a decent number of people at the library for a Saturday morning, although she supposed it was almost lunchtime. It didn't really matter how many of them were here. As soon as Samael had sat down, she had ensured that everyone around them would find a reason to look elsewhere. What reason would they have to pay attention to a small table in the corner anyway?

"I could show you, if you want." What better way to prove to Ann Marie what she really was? Samael wasn't really sure if there were rules about these sort of things, but she had quite given up caring at this point. If Heaven had a problem with her, they were going to have to come down here and take it up with her themselves.

An almost imperceptible nod came from the girl. Samael stood up and pushed the chair in, rolling her shoulders back before releasing the wings. They flew out into the space beside her like a spring finally being released. The angel sighed in relief. It had been far too long since she'd been able to flex them like this.

Ann Marie's jaw dropped, but she recovered quickly. Her brown eyes were wide, taking in the thousands of gleaming white feathers that now stood right in front of her. Suddenly, the girl flung her head around.

"Am I the only one who can see them?"

Samael smiled. "You are the only one who notices them. They all could see them right now if they bothered to look over, but I willed them not to. I didn't think it fair to subject more than one human to all of this insanity today."

Ann Marie laughed at that, and Samael breathed a sigh of relief. It was good to hear the girl's laugh. She'd been so afraid that Ann Marie would run from her if she knew the full truth. Here she was, sitting before a full fledged angel, laughing.

Suddenly, the girls face fell. "What about Anthony?" An edge of fear had crept back into her voice.

Samael pulled the wings back in and sat down. She took a deep breath and plunged in. The angel held nothing back. She started where the world was meant to end, detailing how a demon and an angel teamed up to stop the apocalypse. She spoke of their friendship and the love they'd once shared. Tears fell from her eyes when she mentioned how Aziraphale had died and of the terrible things Crowley had done since.

"I haven't been around all that long," Samael was saying, trying to figure out how to wrap this up and how to tell the girl what had happened earlier that day. "I was created to take care of Crowley. Heaven had decided he'd gone too far and needed to be stopped and I was their solution to that problem."

"He's still here," Ann Marie said after a moment. This was the first time she'd interrupted the story so far. "So that means…"

"I was hurt pretty badly during our first fight," Samael admitted. "Remiel came to Earth. He saved me - took care of me as I healed. That's when I first met you. And you pretty much know the rest of the story based on what I've said." The angel paused, breathing in deep to steady her shaking body. " I can't bring myself to kill Crowley, not after everything he's been through. But I can't let him kill the other angels. And until I come up with a solution, the doors to Heaven are sealed shut, which definitely isn't a good thing. I have no idea what to do."

"Does Remiel have any ideas?" Ann Marie asked. "You said he was an Archangel, right? Maybe he would know a way to help Crowley without having to kill him."

The look on Samael's face must have said everything, because Ann Marie immediately went quiet. She reached across the table and placed a reassuring hand on Samael's, voice tender and low.

"Sam, what happened?"

Samael blinked back the tears, but they fell anyway. "Remiel's gone," she breathed, voice wavering with every syllable. "That's why I left so suddenly earlier. I knew Crowley had figured out there was another angel with me. I tried to stop him, but I was too late."

In an instant, Ann Marie was beside her, wrapping her long arms around Samael's shoulders and pulling the angel into a tight hug.

"I am so sorry, Sam," the girl murmured. "I'm here for you, ok? Wherever that takes me, I'll go. You are my _best friend_ and I'm not going to leave you alone in this, alright? We're in this together. For better or for worse."

Through her tears, Samael smiled.


	20. Chapter 20

Beelzebub sat at their desk, tapping a pencil rapidly against the surface. Why the heaven did there always have to be so much paperwork? For every tiny little thing. Someone wanted to hang a new poster in the hallway? There was a form for that. One of the lesser demons needed new torturing equipment? There was a form for that too.

A groan escaped their lips. Normally, the Prince of Hell would have offloaded this work onto one of their subordinates, but there seemed to be an excess of paperwork this week and no matter how hard they looked, there never seemed to be a demon around with nothing to do.

Perhaps they just needed to get out and stretch their legs. Working nonstop all day without a break was a sure form of torture and though Beelzebub was a demon and lived in Hell, that didn't mean they were the one who had to go through it.

The hallways through Hell were dim and smelled like a strange mixture of sulfur and some kind of ancient wood. Was it oak? Or cedar perhaps? The smell changed each day ever so slightly that it was impossible to keep track of. Beelzebub's eyes flickered to the walls, a smile tugging at the edges of their mouth. Some of the posters were rather amusing. Their personal favorite was one just down the hall from Dagon's office that read 'To Avoid Injury: Do Not Tell Me How to Do My Job'.

A glint of light shone above them and Beelzebub stopped, inspecting the strange metallic object hanging above their head. Now that they had spotted it, the Prince of Hell noticed there were dozens of these things hanging off the ceiling, strung together with a thin bit of metal tubing.

"Dagon," Beelzebub began as they walked into their companion's office. "Who put in the requezt for the sprinkler system in the hallway? I don't remember seeing the paperwork for that."

Dagon looked up from his own stack of papers and frowned.

"What the heaven do we need a sprinkler system for?" Dagon asked. "We're in Hell."

Beelzebub shrugged. "Don't look at me. You should be azzking whoever signed off on it."

The Lord of the Flies rolled his chair over to a rather large filing cabinet in the corner of the room, pulled open the third drawer down, and began searching.

"Ah," he said, pulling out the plain brown folder and flipping through the contents. "According to the file, iit went up Hastur's chain of command." A single scaly finger danced across the lines looking for a specific bit of information. "Says here that there's been some property damage downstairs during training procedures for the new recruits we got to replace the ones we lost in Mazikeen's department. Apparently they like to stoke their fire pits a bit too much. He signed off on it a week ago. A preventative measure, naturally."

"Hmmm…" was all the Prince of Hell had to say. It didn't really much matter to them why the system had been put into place, so long as it didn't require them to do any extra work. "It sure got inztalled quickly."

"Want me to call Hastur down and ask him?" Dagon queried with the air of someone who did not want to do such a thing, thank you very much.

"No need." Beelzebub simply shrugged and walked back out the door. If the proper paperwork had already been filed and signed, who were they to make a fuss? That was one less thing they needed to worry about. When all was said and done, the Prince of Hell counted that as a win.

* * *

"Does the name Anathema Device mean anything to you?"

Ann Marie looked up slightly confused. "No," she responded to Samael's sudden question. "Should it?"

Angel and human had finally left the library shortly after one in the afternoon when Ann Marie's stomach had growled so loudly it had caused both to burst out into a fit of giggles. They were currently walking down the street to a local burger place to get the girl something to eat before she passed out.

"No," Samael responded, running a hand through her still dark hair. She winced as her fingertips brushed up against a spot on the side of her head. It took her a moment longer to realize that this was the spot where Crowley had hit her with the hilt of his knife. Samael immediately miracled the bump away, relieved that she was finally able to do that again without fear.

There was no way Crowley would confront her now. Not anytime soon. He had looked so distraught before he'd vanished. The angel was having a hard time understanding why. It wasn't like he hadn't killed an Archangel before, and it also wasn't like Remiel hadn't deserved it. Samael had heard him confess with her own ears. What he had done had been just as bad as the othes.

"I was just wondering. Remiel had a picture of Crowley and Aziraphale from before and on the back was that name."

Ann Marie shrugged. "Why don't you just ask Google?"

"Who?" Samael queried. She hadn't heard that name before. What a strange one. Why did Ann Marie think he or she would be able to help their situation?

The girl's dark eyes went wide. "You're kidding me. Sam, let me see your phone."

Her phone? Why? Samael fished it out of her pocket and held it up for Ann Marie to see. Her friend let out a cheerful laugh.

"A flip phone? Seriously, how old is that thing?" Before Samael had a chance to respond, her friend had pulled out her own phone and was pressing her finger to the screen to unlock it.

"Ok Google." The phone uttered a quiet beep, then fell silent, as if it were waiting for something. "Who is Anathema Device?"

Samael was dumfounded. What in the world was Ann Marie doing? She could just talk into that machine and it would answer whatever question she asked? How did it know the answer? Was there another human sitting on the other side of the line waiting?

Ann Marie laughed out loud. "Remind me to sit you down when all this is over and give you a technology lesson. We humans have come up with some pretty brilliant things."

"Ah!" she exclaimed, dragging her thumb across the screen. "Here we go. Anathema Device is an American who came over here in the 1990s. She's got a PhD in History, and MBA and sometimes guest lectures at University of London. This says she lived in Tadfield for a while but moved to Romford a few years ago when she got a job at an accounting firm.

Samael was confused. "Why would a picture of an angel and a demon have her name on it?

"She's also a practicing occultist."

That made more sense.

"Does this Google person know her address?"

Ann Marie scanned her phone for a few more moments. "No, but I'm sure we could stop and ask around. Do you really think she'd be able to help?"

Samael honestly had no clue. "There's only one way to find out."

Forty-five minutes later, the girls pulled into a petrol station just inside the city limits. Ann Marie hopped out to fill up the tank and sent Samael inside with some cash to get snacks.

"It's bloody two o'clock in the afternoon and I haven't had a bite to eat all day. I don't care what you get, but whatever it is, get a lot of it."

As she approached the shop door, Samael saw something strange out of the corner of her eye. There was a young boy standing a dozen or so feet away, bouncing a bright red plastic disc up and down in his hands.

_Yo-yo, _her brain supplied. He was gazing over at her with mild interest from behind a pair of wide rimmed glasses. The boy looked to be no older than fourteen and had curly brown hair that stuck up in random places on his head. She was sure she'd never seen this boy before, but he was smiling over at her like he knew her.

"Hey," he greeted, walking up to her. "Are you an angel?"

Her job dropped. "Is that some sort of fancy pickup line?" she asked him, trying to sound friendly and not judgemental. She didn't want to hurt his feelings if it was. He seemed nice enough.

"No," the boy answered simply, almost as if he were bored. "I'm supposed to be meeting an angel here. Mum said she'd show up sometime this afternoon. I just figured I'd ask. Thanks anyway."

Samael continued to stare at the boy for some time, watching him flick the yo-yo up and down. She had so many questions swirling in her mind she didn't know where to begin.

"How will you know when the angel shows up?" Samael asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.

The boy shrugged. "I dunno. I figured she'd be wearing a white robe or have a halo or wings or something like that."

"What if she's in disguise?" The question slipped out before she properly thought it over. What was wrong with her? Now that she'd told Ann Marie the truth, the whole world was next?

He looked perplexed, as if the idea had never occurred to him.

"What is the angel coming here for?" Samael wondered out loud. The chance that the boy was telling the truth was unlikely, but it seemed like such a strange story, and he'd said it with such sincerity.

"I dunno," he answered again. "Mum just said the angel needed her help but that she was busy at home so I had to come show her the way."

Something flickered in the back of Samael's mind. She wondered...was it possible? Highly unlikely, but still…

"Your mother's name doesn't happen to be Anathema Device, does it?"

The boy smiled. "You _are _the angel. I knew it."

Samael was floored. How had a human been able to not only identify her as an angel, but also been able to predict when and where she'd be. Ann Marie had mentioned the woman was an occultist, but she hadn't mentioned how talented she was.

"Can you show us where your mom is?" the angel asked gently. "I need her advice on something."

"Sure," he responded, tucking the toy into his side pocket. "Are we flying there?"

Samael laughed. She gestured over to Ann Marie who was finishing up with the petrol. "How about we grab a ride in my friend's car."

Together, they walked over to the car to greet Ann Marie. Samael was anxious to get going again. She had so many questions. How had Anathema known who she was and when she'd be here. Did the woman know what kind of help she needed? How was she connected to Aziraphale and Crowley?

"Who's this?" Ann Marie asked as the pair approached the car. She had finished filling the tank and was standing by the driver's side, leaning up against the open door.

The boy stuck out his hand in greeting. "Titus Divice-Pulsifer, at your service."

Her eyes widened. "You mean…?"

Samael's head nodded. "Yup! He's going to be our guide for this afternoon. Apparently Anathema is busy at home, so she sent Titus to fetch us. According to Titus here, she knew we were coming."

Ann Marie shook her head in awa. "Could this day get any crazier?"

Apparently it could.

They drove to the Device-Pulsifer house in silence, the only sound coming from the back seat as Titus directed them which way to go. As they pulled up to the house, Samael noticed two figures sitting on a bench by the front porch. One was a woman who looked to be in her forties. She had long dark hair that was starting to gray and caramel skin that shone in the sunlight.

Sitting beside her was another young boy who looked to be around the same age as Ann Marie. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a long sleeved blue flannel shirt that brought out the color of his eyes. Even from where she was sitting inside the vehicle, Samael could see their brightness. Atop his head sat a halo of golden curls and he wore an extremely familiar smile.

Impossible. Samael climbed out of the car, walking carefully toward the pair - towards the boy, as if he would vaniish at any moment.

"Is that…? Ann Marie began, as the car door shut loudly behind her. The boy's attention was on them now, and he looked nervous. The woman who must be Anathema reached out a hand and placed it comfortingly on his.

"Aziraphale," Samael found herself whispering. How was this possible? How was he here? She'd watched him die. His entire essence had been destroyed by hellfire. Crowley had mourned for him for years and yet he was here, younger perhaps, but very much alive.

"Oh?" His voice sounded intrigued but pained at the same time. "You knew me too? I'm truly sorry, but I don't remember you at the moment."

The girls were silent, too stunned to react. The boy who was Aziraphale looked visibly upset. "I've been working very hard, you know, to bring all my memories back, but there's still a lot to go. I hope it's not too much trouble -"

A gently placed hand on his shoulder cut him off. Anathema smiled at the boy and gave him a gentle nod. She then turned to her son and beckoned him over.

"Why don't you three head inside and get something to eat," she suggested. "We'll be in shortly."

No one had to ask who she was referring to. As soon as Aziraphale got up from his seat and opened the front door, Samael moved to sit beside the older woman. The angel offered Ann Marie a soft smile which the girl returned silently. She wasn't a fan of parting with Samael, but even Ann Marie could sense that this was a safe place. They would be fine.

Once they had closed the door behind them, Samael turned to Anathema. "I need your help," she began, not even knowing how to begin. How much did this woman know? She'd been spot on with her predictions so far.

"I'm aware," Anathema responded after a while. Her eyes were fixed on something out in the front yard. Over the past few weeks the leaves had begun their transition from green to brown and were currently stuck in various shades of red and orange. The forest across the street was ablaze with color. If the situation hadn't been so dire, Samael might have thought the setting beautiful. "But I'm afraid I don't know how much help I will be. The feelings I get aren't always very specific. I'm going to need you to fill me in a bit on what is going on."

Samael reached into her pocket and pulled out the photograph that most certainly had not been there moments before. Anathema studied it for a while, turning it over in her hands.

"I don't recognize this handwriting," she finally admitted. "But I do know these two." She glanced toward the door. "You've already met one of them, I see."

The angel leaned in and placed her finger on the lower right hand corner of the photograph, next to the man dressed in all black, leaning casually against the bench with his longer hair blowing lazily in the wind. "I'm actually more familiar with this one."

Anathema's eyes widened ever so slightly. If she looked closely enough, Samael could see a hint of tears stirring in the brown pools.

"How is he?" the human asked, emotion filling her voice. The sorrow and longing was evident around her. It wasn't as sharp and cutting as it had been with Crowley or even within herself, but the feelings were still here. "I haven't spoken with him in so long."

How much did this woman know? How much was too much to reveal? Samael had already turned one life on its head today. Would it be wrong to do the same with another human so soon?

Anathema had known she was an angel from the beginning. Based on their interaction so far, she didn't come across as someone who was new to this whole 'ethereal being' conundrum. Perhaps it was fine to confide in her.

"He's - " Samael broke off, letting out a frustrated sigh. What in the world was she supposed to say here? How did she tell someone: 'hey, that guy you know? He's a demon. And he's been murdering angels because he lost the love of his life who apparently is alive and doesn't remember anything'?

"He's lost," she finally settled on. "He misses Aziraphale so much. And he's so so _angry_ with Heaven and Hell. He blames us all for what happened."

"Are you to blame?" she asked simply, but there was a hardness to her words that made Samael's stomach churn. From the limited information she'd gathered so far, Anathema had known this pair _before._ How much heartache had she endured with Aziraphale's death? Had she known the whole story, or had Crowley vanished without giving the woman answers? How had she found Aziraphale again, after all this time?

"Yes." There was no other answer that could be given. "He's begun enacting his own form of justice, Anathema. He's killing angels and demons alike, and I can't stop him." She paused, hope flaring in her chest. "But Aziraphale's _alive_. If Crowley could only see him for a moment! You have no idea - "

"No." The woman cut her off without a second thought. "_He_ has no idea. Aziraphale only remembers the happiest moments of his previous life. He remembers nothing of Heaven and Hell. Nothing of the Apocalypse, nothing of being an angel, nor of hellfire or holy water. All he sees in his dreams are the moments most precious to him - the moments he spent with Crowley, when it was only the two of them."

"If he remembers Crowley, then don't you think it's wrong to keep them apart?" Samael countered. "If Aziraphale remembers even a fraction of the love he felt then, shouldn't they get a chance to be together again?"

Anathema sighed a heavy sight that said 'yes, I've agonized over that for so long. Yes of course they deserve to be together, but it isn't as simple as that'.

"Memories are a tricky thing," she finally said. "If we push too much on him too soon, we could do irreversible damage. It is best if he goes about remembering things in his own time. I was going to start searching for Crowley once Aziraphale had come to terms with his angelic nature on his own."

Samael grimaced. "You won't have to go looking for him, when the time comes," she stated. "I know where to find him."

The two were silent for a moment, each unsure what to say next.

"Do you want to come inside?" Anathema asked finally. "Maybe being around an angel will help trigger his memory."

The angel appeared shocked. "Do you really think that will help?" She watched as the older woman shrugged.

"Who am I to day it won't? Do I look like an expert in celestial reincarnation?"

Samael laughed and followed Anathema inside. All three human teenagers were sitting down at the breakfast table munching on an assortment of fruits and pretzels. Ann Marie looked up at the angel hopefully.

"Did you get the help you needed?" she asked, taking another bite of a sandwich that Samael hadn't realized was there in front of her. The angel immediately felt guilty for not providing her friend with food much earlier. She had never experienced hunger before, but it had seemed dreadfully uncomfortable.

"Not exactly," she murmured, looking over at Aziraphale. He was looking up at her with wide blue eyes and an air of apprehension and...guilt about him. What did he have to feel guilty about? "There's a potential long term solution, but nothing we can do immediately. We're going to have to wait it out and hope he doesn't do something stupid in the meantime."

Samael silently willed Ann Marie not to say anything further. She thought about what Anathema had said about Aziraphale's memories and figured it was best if they didn't mention Crowley by name, just in case the former angel had forgotten that too.

Miraculously, Ann Marie seemed to understand. She locked gazes with Samael and nodded softly, returning to the food that was still sitting on her plate with renewed vigor.

"Um…" Aziraphale finally spoke up, eyes alight with nervousness. "I'm Will," he reached out a hand in greeting and Samael took it. She had almost expected the contact to trigger something, but there was no sudden shock or realization in his eyes. "Or, rather, Aziraphale, I suppose, to you. I'm awfully sorry I don't remember you. Were we good friends?"

The angel smiled gently. He was such a kind soul, in whatever form he presented himself. "No," she began. "Sorry to tell you. I was actually much better acquainted with your friend."

At the mention of the nameless Crowley, Aziraphale's eyes lit up. "You knew my dearest? How is he? I miss him so very much."

A sad smile appeared on the angel's face. She felt anger flicker to life but she quickly snuffed it out. Why couldn't the Archangels see how beautiful this kind of love was? Even after all this time had passed, even when Aziraphale didn't remember Crowley's name, his love for the demon was blindingly bright. Samael could feel it ballooning from his chest to fill the entire room.

"He misses you too." It was all she was willing to admit.

Tears filled the boy's eyes. He began to tremble with emotion and Samael felt an overwhelming urge to wrap him up in her arms and tell him everything was going to be ok.

_I'm so sorry for everything we did to you. I'm sorry for all the pain, all the confusion, all the loneliness. I'm sorry we couldn't understand. I would do anything to take it all back._

Samael hadn't been there for everything that happened, but she felt the crushing guilt of Heaven's actions all the same.

"Do you think it would be possible for me to see him?" Aziraphale asked, looking up at Samael and then to Anathema. The woman grimaced, looking over at Samael. The angel knew what that meant. Exposing Aziraphale to Crowley now would undoubtedly reveal his demonic nature and Anathema just wasn't sure the former angel was ready for a blow like that yet.

"I know what you said about my memories, and I'm sure there's something we could do to make sure we don't go too fast for me. He's all alone out there and probably thinks I'm dead and I just want him to know that I still love him with all of my heart."

Would it really be all that bad? Samael could talk to Crowley first, explain to him the situation. Surely the demon would do whatever he was asked if it meant seeing his angel alive again, wouldn't he? And he would never willingly do anything that would hurt Aziraphale.

Before she could give a voice to her thoughts, Samael felt her stomach lurch. The sensation felt something like having a hidden trapdoor underneath your feet for your entire life and then having it suddenly open without a single warning sign. She staggered, the edge of the table breaking her fall, the only thing preventing her from tumbling to the ground.

A million screams echoed in her mind all at once. They were filled with agony and terror and confusion and rage and Samael felt like she was being undone. The world spun around her, like it was turning on her head and it was all the angel could do not to completely fall out of it.

When the sensation finally stopped, she was panting, sweat pouring from her brow down to her cheeks. Her vision swam as she looked from one teenager to another. None of them appeared to notice anything except for her violent reaction to nothing. Had she simply imagined it all?

Then she turned to Anathema and fear sized at her heart.

"What was…" the woman breathed, her knuckles a ghostly white as she gripped the back of the chair nearby. "What the...Hell?"

No.

It couldn't be.

He wouldn't - how was this even possible?

Samael had thought she was done being blindsided. Surely, after all she had discovered about Heaven, she would never be surprised again. She had been severely mistaken. It was one thing for an angel to feel a shift in the cosmos, but a human too? It had to be a big change - something unthinkable.

"He's done it," she breathed, voice barely alive in her throat. Samael didn't know how she knew, but she did. "He's destroyed them all. All at once. There's none of them left. He's the last one."

Hell had been an ever-existing presence in her mind from the moment she'd first opened her eyes. It was something that she'd never bothered to acknowledge, and so that presence became near-forgettable. Now that it was gone, it felt like someone ripped off a bandage somewhere she couldn't see and had completely forgotten about until the searing pain erupted across her skin.

Samael locked eyes with Anathema, sure the horror on her own face matched that of the occultist. Thank Someone she understood. It would make this much easier.

"Anathema, we are out of time," Samael explained. "We don't have the luxury of playing it safe anymore. If he's done this, you know where he's going next. If he gets through those gates there's not a single thing I can do that will fix this. We're talking about much more than how best to restore a handful of lost memories." The angel looked over at Aziraphale, the knowledge of what she had to do already in her mind. "I need him. Now."

The woman's only answer was a small nod, the magnitude of what had just happened preventing her from saying anything else. What in the world could she say in the face of the revelation that the entirety of Hell had been obliterated? There was not a single demon alive except Crowley. And if he had finished with Hell, there was only one place left he would set his sights on.

She could not let him destroy Heaven. No matter what they had done. She would not let humanity pay for the mistakes of the heavenly. Not anymore.

"Sam," Ann Marie began, "What's going on?"

"Anathema will explain," Samael began, already leaping into action. With a snap of her fingers, her contacts were gone, revealing a pair of bright blue eyes to the world. The next second her black hair was fading into blonde and growling longer by the second, it began to braid itself as her jeans and long sleeved shirt paled in color and slowly began to meld themselves into a simple white robe. "Ann Marie, I need you to give Azira - I need you to give Will the ring."

She obliged making no comment about the transformation that had just occurred before her eyes. Aziraphale, however, stared at her with his mouth wide open.

"What just happened?" he asked quickly. "How did you do that? Who are you? And why do you look exactly like me?"

Oh how she wished she could explain everything to him now, but there was no time. Crowley had walked into Heaven once before to save the love of his life. This time, he was out for blood and she was the only thing left in existance that could stop him.

"If I'm going back home, they're sure as Hell going to know exactly who I am."


	21. Chapter 21

The road to Heaven was paved with silver and gold and all manners of sparkling things that were supposed to inspire immense joy and awe as souls approached the pearly gates of the Silver City. As her bare feet traced the cold surface, Samael felt none of those things. She walked somberly, with purpose, toward the towering structure separating her from the place she had once called home.

She looked down at her hands, miracling into existence two items of invaluable significance. In her right hand, Samael held a polished silver blade, humming with ethereal energy. On her left hand, perched upon the middle finger was a ring, identical in all aspects to the one she had left behind.

No trumpets sounded her arrival, no heavenly choirs sang her praises as she took her place before the gate. Even with her back to the Silver City, she could sense them all watching - emerging from their holes to see the final showdown. They all knew it was coming. She could sense their eagerness, their desire. They wanted to see him _bleed_ for what he had done. And he would. A grimace appeared on her otherwise flawless face. All in good time.

Crowley arrived in silence as well - had the audacity to _saunter_ up the road toward her, devilish grin on his lips visible for miles. Samael gripped the sword in her hand tighter, using it to pull out the strength she knew lay within her. This blade had once been gifted to an angel to guard the gates of Eden. Now, it would be used once more to guard the gates of Heaven from the monstrosity that approached it.

"Stand aside," the demon commanded, drawing forth an echo of indignation from the crowds now gathering at the top of the wall. They didn't fear him. He didn't belong here. He had no Authority here, of all places. A demon, standing before the gates of Heaven. Even if he did manage to slip past the guardian standing before him, there was no way Heaven would open its gates for the likes of him.

Samael said nothing. She locked her gaze on his and for the first time he saw her true self and did not flinch away. She smiled, the light not quite reaching her eyes. So, this was the end.

"I told you before, _angel,_" he spat the word like it had scorched his tongue. Her heart ached, remembering how gentle that word had been before, when it had been meant for someone else. "You will be the last of them to fall. I will make you watch Heaven _burn_ before I finally let your life come to an end. You will lose everything you love."

_Not everything, _her heart argued, but she pushed the words back down. She knew he would not hurt the humans. Not Anathema or Newton. Not Titus and Ann Marie. Aziraphale had loved them all and Crowley would never take away something his angel had loved.

Now was not the time for an argument. All of Heaven was watching. Her Purpose had come at last. This was what she had been made for.

The sword felt achingly heavy in her hands.

If this had been like one of those movies Remiel had loved so much, a strong breeze would have swept through the cloud laiden grounds, causing her robe to billow dramatically around her. Part of her wished it would, so she could pretend for a moment that he was still with her somewhere, watching over her with all the love he could give. There was no breeze. There was no Remiel. Not anymore.

Her attention came back to the demon before her, gazing at her with bright amber eyes filled with all of the same emotions she felt raging through her. She could still hear his snake-like whispers, hear Remiel's cries as the hellforged blade had been driven straight into his chest. The smell of blood and agony filled the space around her once more and the pair had yet to move to engage each other.

"I do not wish to stop you." Her voice rang loud and clear and brought forth echos of her own from the audience above. "But I cannot turn away from the task I was created to do. If you can get past me, you may do what you wish with the Silver City."

The demon's eyes narrowed. Whatever he had been expecting, it hadn't been this. Shouts sounded from the wall, but Samael willed them away. Silence hung around them. She refused to look behind her. Refused to give them the satisfaction that she would even waste a thought on them. .

"Have it your way." The demon shrugged, then rocketed himself forward, faster than she had ever seen a human move. He launched himself into the air, in a stylized somersault that likely would have won him any gymnastics competition he would have dared to enter himself in. Her eyes caught the flash of a cheeky grin, as if he had bested her so quickly and it amused him how pathetic she appeared.

An instant later, that amusement turned to pain as her blade sliced through his stomach, cutting a gash two feet long across his torso. His black shirt slickened with blood as she reached out a hand to pull him close as he fumbled the landing.

"You're going to have to do better than that," she taunted before pressing his body close to hers. One more movement of the sword and Crowley had vanished. She was left with nothing but a used up sword and bloodstained robes.

A cheer rose up from the angels behind her, but she paid them no attention. They didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. It was only her and the demon now. Her eyes drifted to the edge of the road, wondering just how long it would take him to return.

Time moved differently in the celestial plane than it did down on earth. It could have been a minute or a year before that familiar figure dressed in all black, a clean pressed shirt tucked neatly into his black jeans, crested over the hillside. His wings were out this time, broad and bold and _beautiful_. Slicing through the air like a knife.

She met him halfway, sword arcing through the sky, slicing through feathers and flesh and bones. He fell, landing roughly on the jeweled path and had only a second to look up before her blade came crashing down between his shoulder blades. He cried out in anguish and then disappeared once more.

Cheers met her once more as she walked calmly back to her station. The black blood climbing up from the streets and onto the bottom hem of her robe. She refused to look up at the other angels and instead set her sights on the one and only path that led to Heaven.

It took seven repetitions for the first angel to realize what was happening. She could sense the silent horror as it began to spread slowly within the tall, iridescent walls. Each time her blade bit into the demon's flesh, she soaked in his cry of anguish and locked her eyes with him as he vanished once again.

"What is the meaning of this?" the angels cried out behind her as she cut the demon down time and time again.

"Finish the monster off already!"

"What are you waiting for?"

"_Destroy_ him! Like he destroyed them!"

"He deserves it." He deserves it. He deserves it.

The words soared around them like a heavenly choir, providing a rhythm to their dance. Time and time again Crowley approached her and she cut him down. More blood spilled on her arms, shoulders, torso, feet. Silently she stood, waiting for the next time he would crest over the hill and the next steps of their dance would begin.

At the first sound of wings behind her, time stopped halfway. Samael would not stop it all the way. That would defeat the whole point. An eternity could pass in the blink of an eye for her audience and they would learn _nothing. _So she froze them in time with their eyes wide open. They couldn't move, but they could see. And maybe if they could see, they could finally understand.

Eventually, the demon changed his tactics. He stopped trying to overwhelm her with force and began throwing taunts her way with each new iteration.

"You can't possibly keep this up forever!" Crowley snarled as her blade bit into his chest.

"Think of the humans! You'd keep them in limbo forever just to stop one demon? They don't deserve that. They don't deserve this for eternity." Because he would never stop and this would be eternity unless she did something.

"Surely even _you_ will get bored eventually. Is this what you imagined for your existence? Is this what you _wanted?_" His jab at what she wanted cut deep beneath her facade, but Samael willed the pain away and stood resolute. There was only one way this could end. She would not fail.

Those taunts slowly turned into shouts of anger. Crowley screamed at her each time he was sent away. The screams echoed inside of her and their truths found roots inside her heart. Still she did not falter.

"They _deserve _this."

"They're the reason he's gone!"

"They destroyed him, for loving me. Where is the justice in that?"

Samael swung her blade over and over and over again. Blood soaked through her robe and into her skin, staining the white cloth black. Her once pristine feathers were spattered with black and her hair was starting to crust over. Crowley approached her once more. Slowly, cautiously, his serpentine eyes burning into her.

"You were created because of _me,_" he hissed. The distance between them was shrinking rapidly, but Samael did not dispose of him yet. She let him speak. "You were created to destroy me. So go ahead, do it. Fulfil your purpose. Let's end this dance."

Something had shifted. There was a glimmer of something else in his eyes. Something other than rage. Was it sorrow? Longing? She reached a hand behind his neck and pulled him close, her blade rising to meet his heart. For a moment, she saw his face filled with peace that lasted only a second before he felt the familiar tug pulling him away and knew that this still was not over.

Understanding overcame her in shallow waves that lapped at the edge of her consciousness. There was still one piece of the puzzle missing. She'd thought everything had been put on the table, believed she had uncovered all the secrets there were, but there was something else. For the first time, she finally knew what it could be.

The next time the demon approached her, he walked silently forward. Samael kept her eyes fixed on his face, fierce determination etched in every beautiful crease.

This time, he stopped several feet away. The demon held her gaze for a moment before his eyes fell to the pathway at his feet.

"I was supposed to die with him." his voice was soft, but it seemed to carry further than anything he had said up until this point. "I was shot in the heart with a stream of Holy Water that was meant to destroy me. I'm not supposed to be here. This is a mistake."

_This is a mistake. I am a mistake. None of this should have happened. _The words echoed in her mind as she drew in a deep breath to steady her nerves. A voice deep down inside of her said it was her duty to correct this mistake. She had been made to fix it.

_Fix this mistake._

Her blade thrust forward and his body disappeared and once again the demon came walking down the streets of gold. She watched silently, the blue in her eyes burning brightly like a summer sky. There had been a shift in the air this time. No one else may have felt it, but Samael had.

Crowley knelt at her feet, bowing his head so she could no longer see the tears brimming in his eyes. "Please…" he whispered, voice shattering like glass against concrete. "Make it stop."

And there it was. The final piece to her puzzle fell into place. Samael inhaled sharply as hundreds of memories flashed through her mind. Every interaction they'd had. Every word that he had ever said to her. It all finally came together.

For her whole life, she had been told her duty was to destroy this monster. He was a murderer, a sick - twisted being whose only goal in existence was to cause pain and destruction. And even when she had stumbled upon the reason for his actions, that hadn't made it any better. He sought to dish out destruction a hundredfold to what he had experienced. He was a creature with a vendetta, and he would not stop until his thirst had been quenched.

Except all of that was a lie. None of this had been a quest for revenge. It had been a cry for absolution.

Samael knelt in front of him, lifting a hand underneath his chin. She steeled herself, refusing to look away from the pain and loss and regret swimming in his eyes. The sword lay motionless on the ground beside her.

Gently, the angel ran her palm across his damp cheek. The demon leaned into her touch, closing his eyes as hot tears fell fresh. It wasn't hard to imagine what he wished for most of all in that moment - that it was _his _hand caressing Crowley's face and not hers. At this distance, he likely could pretend she was his beloved. She had his eyes, his face, his hair. Everything about her had been designed to torment Crowley. That torment would end today.

"Come back to me," she whispered as she leaned forward toward his ear. Her other hand, now free of the sword, rose up to meet his neck. A shiver rose up through his body, eyes still closed, imagining he was in the embrace of someone else. "Come back one more time and I promise I will make the pain end."

His eyes rose to meet hers and she smiled sadly. With a quick motion his body slumped and disappeared and she was alone again except for the crowd of frozen angels behind her.

For so long, she had questioned. Samael had wondered 'why' things had to happen the way that they did. Why did the demons have to fall? Why did the angels have to hate? Why hadn't this been stopped before it could even start? Why was the only answer she received Silence?

Watching the demon approach her for the last time, his ebony wings splayed out in a curtain behind him, she finally understood. And maybe, just maybe, once all this was through, some of the others would too.

At this point, all eyes were focused on the demon as he landed in front of her. No one saw as Samael tugged the silver ring off of her finger, crushing the jewelry into dust beneath her fist.

"Is there anything you wish to say?" Samael asked him as he knelt before her. The demon looked up to meet her eyes. His long red hair was pulled back this time, drawing her attention to the simple dark robe he wore - not black this time, but a deep navy blue. It was clean and fresh and smelled faintly of lilacs and summer rain.

"I never wanted any of this," he admitted in a breath so light that Samael was barely sure the words were even there. "I only ever wanted to love him."

She knelt before him so their eyes were level, careful not to let her bloodstained garments taint his fresh ones. In one hand, she raised her sword that had, unlike all the other times, become miraculously clean.

The demon closed his eyes, leaning into her until their foreheads were touching. He knew as well as she did that he didn't deserve this overwhelming peace before his end, but she gave it to him anyway.

Tilting her head up slightly, Samael brushed her lips against Crowley's forehead, the fleeting image of another angel, tall with dark hair and the kindest eyes she had ever known, flooding her mind.

"You are forgiven," she breathed and this time, she meant it with everything that she was and ever would be. The sword leapt forward from her hand and flew toward his chest.

The moment the blade made contact with the navy blue robe it began to crumble into dust so fine it looked like a million tiny stars, scattering across the dark fabric. She could sense the body before her tense with expectation, then relax slightly when the inevitable weight of silence did not enfold him.

Crowley's eyes flew open in shock and anger. "You promised," he began to growl, pain seeping through every fiber of his being.

Finally, Samael lifted her eyes to gaze at a spot behind the demon. A soft smile graced her lips as a pair of identical eyes met her own. "Turn around."

The words were not a command, but the demon followed them anyway. He turned his entire body in the direction her words had coaxed him to go. She could feel the shock and anger and pain radiating through him as he took in the scene before him.

A boy, no older than seventeen years old, stood on the jeweled pathway. He wore nothing but a pair of faded jeans, blue and white flannel shirt, and a hesitant smile that would cause even the hardest of hearts to soften just a fraction. The demon whirled back around.

"What is this trickery?" His eyes were wide, voice filled with many emotions, the strongest of all - fear.

Samael shook her head softly. "Did you mishear me?" she asked quietly. "Or perhaps you simply misunderstood."

Crowley was silent for a moment, trembling, afraid to turn back around. Whether he was afraid of what he might see, or what he might not see, the angel didn't know.

"I don't understand," he pleaded. She gazed down at him with soft eyes, hoping the truth in them would shine a light into all his doubts.

"You will. Go talk to him."

Silently, she watched as the demon rose to his feet and practically glided over to the young man who had suddenly appeared along the pathway. Samael could feel the storm of emotions fluttering between the pair - confusion, pain, longing, wonder, hope, love. Glancing back, she locked gazes with a particular set of violet eyes standing at the frontline of it all. _This is for you. _She willed him to understand.

"It's you," the blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy breathed. He took a step forward, reaching out, almost as if he needed to touch the demon as much as he needed to breathe. "Sam told me you were real, but I didn't know if I believed her. This feels too much like another dream." Their hands touched, grasping onto each other like the world might end if they ever let go. Tears streamed down his cheeks. "Please tell me it's not a dream."

Samael's eyes pricked with tears of her own as the angel-turned-human spoke her name. A familiar pain tugged at her chest and once again, she pushed it back down.

"It's not a dream, angel." Crowley's voice was hoarse with emotion. "At least, I hope not. If it is, I never want to wake up from it."

A bright smile spread out across the human's face. Samael could clearly see why the demon loved him. He was the brightest light shining out in a world of darkness. How anyone would want to snuff him out, she would never understand.

"I know you," the human began. "I've known you all my life. And I - " a wave of sadness permeated the air around them. "I'm so sorry."

"No!" Crowley almost yelled, clutching the hands in front of him even tighter. "Please, no. You have nothing - nothing - to be sorry for. You've done nothing wrong. You're perfect, angel." he breathed in deeply. "You always have been."

The blonde shook his head. "I can't remember your name," he cried, guilt flooding into his eyes. "I remember the way your eyes shine in the sunlight, and the sound of your laugh. I remember long walks in the park and sharing countless meals with you. I remember that you are my whole world. And no matter what I try, I can't remember your name."

"'S'alright," the demon responded. The sadness in his voice was evident, but at least the sheer agony had begun to trickle away. "We've got all the time in the world to help you remember."

Samael's clenched fist lay heavy at her side. She watched as the two beings embraced each other. A wave of love rushed past her and she turned to watch as it swept over all the angels present. She saw tears in some of their eyes. Confusion, regret, guilt. She smiled sadly. There was still one thing left to do.

_I've missed you so much. _The echoes of their hearts drifted toward her as the angel approached the pearly gates. Samael finally released her hold on the angels present as the gates swung wide open, welcoming her home for the last time.


	22. Chapter 22

None of the buildings in the Silver City were truly silver in color. It was a spectacular phenomenon that all of the angels knew but few actually thought about. Everything in the city was white - the purest white that when combined with Heaven's cold light, reflected silver.

Samael walked between the buildings towards the center of the city. She was painfully aware that the entire population of Heaven was following her every move, as if she were the sole flicker of light amidst an ocean of darkness. They flocked to her like moths to a flame and she let them. Samael let her light burn brighter than it ever had because she needed them to hear her. She needed them to understand.

Waves of love were still washing through the city. She wondered what it felt like to the others, the ones that had never known a love like this. Samael hadn't loved for long, but at least this feeling was familiar to her. It would be completely new and overwhelming to the rest of them.

Was that why there were tears on the face of every angel she saw? Did they feel guilty for what they had allowed to be torn apart? Were they in mourning for their fallen brethren? Samael would never know.

At the center of the heavenly city was a gazebo. In the time she'd spent here, Samael had never witnessed anyone using it, but everyone was headed there now. Some angels flew overhead landing in the area outside the structure, but most walked behind her. It was eerily quiet except for the occasional soft sniffle coming from a more openly emotional angel as they tried to dry their tears.

As they walked, the angels ahead of her moved to the side to create a pathway straight to the central structure. Samael kept her eyes fixed forward, trying not to focus too much on the mounting anxiety in her chest. She could feel at the edge of her consciousness that something important was happening. This would be a day Heaven would remember forever.

By her side, Samael's hand was trembling. She kept it locked in a tight fist and forced herself to walk onward. The gazebo had just come into sight and if she squinted, the angel could see several figures standing underneath it.

She drew closer and the figures began to move. There were eight of them, standing in a semicircle at the top of the stairs, facing out towards the crowd. The one closest to the front gazed down at Samael as she approached the bottom step and smiled at her with an achingly familiar smile.

Samael wanted to run to him. She wanted to throw her arms around Remiel and never let him go, but her job here was not finished yet. There was still a lesson to be learned.

The moment her foot touched the first step, the crowd of angels fell silent. They watched, transfixed, as she climbed them one after another. Thankfully, the blood on her robe had dried enough that it was not leaving a dripping trail, but Samael was very aware that she was a spot of darkness in an otherwise sea of white.

From the top Samael could see across the entire crowd. She could gaze down at every face, absorb every emotion that emanated from them. After a moment, the angel found the pair of violet eyes she had been searching for. The Archangel had tear stains on his cheek and quickly looked away upon noticing Samael had spotted him. She could feel the waves of sorrow and guilt rolling off him and breathed a sigh of relief. Moments passed by that could have been as short as seconds or as long as years. There was no way to know for sure.

"Words cannot express how deeply sorry I am," Gabriel finally admitted, his voice ringing out over all that were gathered there. Samael noticed several angels nodding in agreement. "All the pain and suffering I put us all through, it was all so unnecessary. If I had just been open to the possibility of…" he trailed off, not knowing how to put the rest into words.

"I was just so angry. I was so convinced that Hell was the enemy and I couldn't understand how Aziraphale could be friends with a demon, let alone love one. I couldn't understand how he could put Earth and all of humanity above Heaven. I was convinced he was a traitor to our side and I acted accordingly. But I didn't - how could I - " The Archangel broke off with a muffled sob, unable to finish his statement.

Beside him, Michael took a step forward. "We didn't understand," she tried to explain in a way that was reflective and not at all making excuses for the things they had done. "How could we when we'd never taken the time to really experience Her creation? We were wrong to assume we understood Her Plan. And we were wrong to try and tear apart something so…"

Now it was Michael's turn to trail off, unable to come up with the words. There were too many to choose from and not enough that could truly described the thing that Crowley and Aziraphale shared. It was ineffable.

Samael turned to address the crowd gathered before her. It was not lost on her the irony of the newest of all the angels addressing the entirety of Heaven that had been here since the beginning.

"Crowley's sins have been absolved," she explained, raising her voice ever so slightly so those in the back could hear. She needed them to hear her. This could not be allowed to happen again. "He has paid the price for each life that he took. With each of his deaths, a life was restored." Samael paused, looking down at the Archangels standing before her. "Your sins have been forgiven as well, for each of you has experienced the fear for your life and the loss of love that you burdened Crowley and Aziraphale with for so long."

_Learn from this, _she urged them as she turned away. _Don't ever let each other forget._

The angels in the gazebo with her began to disperse, unfurling their wings and flying down to the ground to greet their companions. Only one remained, waiting for her as she approached him.

"You did it," Remiel breathed, tears overflowing onto his face. "In the most unexpectedly beautiful way possible. I am in awe of you."

Samael smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. Looking up at Remiel, the weight of everything hit her all at once. She felt her breath hitch in her throat as he began to reach for her. Unable to hold herself back, Samael fell into his arms.

"I missed you so much," she whispered, burying her face in his neck, lips brushing up against the warm skin. The angel's entire body was trembling as she fought off exhaustion. She had to hang on, just a little bit longer.

Remiel wrapped his arms firmly around her waist like he was never going to let her go. "How did you know? How did you know it would bring us back?"

"I didn't," Samael admitted, breathing in his scent. Her right hand moved to weave itself into his hair, left hand still clenched firmly in a fist. "I hoped. I _prayed _that it would. But I didn't know for sure until I saw you standing here with my own eyes."

The Archangel finally pulled away and gazed down at her with love shining in his eyes. Samael felt her heart soar within her chest. There were so many things she wanted to say to him, but the shaking in her hands reminded her that she had to choose her words carefully. There wasn't much time left.

"There is something I need you to do for me," Samael began, gazing up at the Archangel that had grown to be her closest friend.

"_Anything,_" he whispered back fiercely. "Everything. Samael, I am yours to command from this moment on."

She smiled, wishing it were true. Slowly, the angel leaned in and whispered her request in his ears. When she leaned back again, the expression on his face had lost its traces of joy.

"Why can't you handle that yourself?" he asked, voice wavering ever so slightly. "You'd be much better suited for it.

Samael shook her head slowly, sadly. Her vision swam in front of her and it was a miracle she managed to stay upright.

How much did Remiel know? She didn't know what happened to an angel when they died - not yet anyway. Had he been watching her the whole time? Did he simply close his eyes in their home and open them here in Heaven as she had drawn nearer? Had _She_ said anything to him while he'd been gone? Or had he been all alone?

"Humans can't come to Heaven while they are alive," the angel began, thinking of the boy she'd met with the soft smile and kind heart. "Not even if they used to be angels in another life. Not unless they have a little help."

She extended her shaking left hand to him, placing it in his for support. Slowly, the angel unfurled her fingers to reveal a pile of fine grey dust. Remiel's eyes went wide.

"Why would you - " he began, fingers tightening around her palm, careful not to displace the dust.

A single tear fell from Samael's eye. "It was the only way this could end. They deserve happiness, Remiel. They deserve a future."

His jaw flexed ever so slightly. If she hadn't been gazing at him so intently, she might have missed it. Samael admired his determination not to let her see how much this revelation was hurting him. _What about us? _She could practically hear the unspoken question in the air around them. _What about our future?_

Without fanfare, Samael leaned in and pressed her lips against his. The kiss was chaste and sweet and with it, Samael felt the last of her celestial power leaving her body. A wave of exhaustion overcame her and the angel's knees gave out. Remiel lunged forward to catch her.

As darkness began to encroach at the edge of her vision, Samael turned all her attention to Remiel. She smiled up at him, reaching up a hand to brush the side of his face, his hair, his lips. The Archangel leaned down to steal another kiss. She gave it away freely.

"Come find me once you've finished with what you need to do here," she whispered as everything faded away. The last thing she saw was the Archangel's tear-filled smile, and then she was gone.


	23. Chapter 23

This was a dream. It had to be a dream because Crowley was standing at Heaven's doors with an angel wrapped in his arms. The demon breathed in deeply, cherishing the familiar scent of books and tea leaves, a scent he thought he'd never experience again. This was all he'd ever wanted. How was it possible that Aziraphale was here, after all this time?

"I'm sorry," his angel whispered for the hundredth time. Crowley gripped him tighter, slowly raising a hand to touch Aziraphale's face.

"Please Angel," he breathed, leaning back to gaze into those beautiful blue eyes. "You have _nothing_ to apologize for. I told you before, you're perfect."

Oh, how he wanted to lean down and kiss those soft lips senseless, but Crowley held himself back. He'd gone too fast once and although the demon knew Aziraphale loved him, he was still missing some crucial memories and Crowley was terrified of pushing him away.

"I just - " Aziraphale sobbed, his hands holding on tightly to the front of Crowley's robe. "I know how lonely I was without you, and I didn't even know who you were. You spent the last seventeen years thinking I was dead. I can't imagine what that must have been like for you, my dear, and it pains me to even think about such a dreadful thing."

_My dear. _The name caused Crowley's heart to flutter. Despite the swirling vortex of emotions inside of him, he smiled.

"It doesn't matter now, Aziraphale," Crowley beamed. "None of it matters because you're here in my arms again. I will never ever ever let you go."

Aziraphale's cheeks flushed in embarrassment and Crowley simply laughed. Joy washed over him, filling in all the holes that grief and anger had left behind. He was overwhelmed by it and drew his angel in once more, burying his face in the halo of golden curls.

"How are you here?" Crowley found himself asking. "I begged and pleaded for so long and heard nothing. I was so sure you were lost to me forever. How is it that you are here with me now? After all this time?"

He felt the gentle smile against his skin and Crowley shivered, heat rising to his cheeks. For once, the demon didn't care that he was just that - a demon. He let himself feel everything in that moment because _nothing _would ever feel as wonderful as this.

"I don't know," Aziraphale murmured. "It must be some sort of divine miracle."

Another laugh escaped his mouth. This was way beyond any miracle an angel could perform. And anything as good as this would never come from a demon.

Crowley knew, as well as anyone else, that angels and demons weren't the only ones who could make miracles happen. He didn't dwell on the thought for long.

The sound of flapping wings alerted the pair to approaching company. For the briefest of moments, Crowley felt a flash of panic as a vision of thousands of angels descending upon them filled his mind. They were coming for him, to steal Aziraphale away from him again. They were going to drag him through the pearly gates and Crowley would be left behind.

When the pair looked up, there was only one angel flying towards them and Crowley relaxed, but only a little bit. He drew Aziraphale closer to his side, wrapping a protective arm around him as they turned to face the approaching angel.

Crowley nearly fainted when he realized who it was.

"Ngk," the sound escaped his throat before his brain had caught up with the sight right there in front of his eyes. "How - What? But I - "

Remiel laughed, his brown eyes sparkling, but it wasn't quite with joy. Crowley knew that look. He was achingly familiar with that look.

Something had happened to Samael.

"Pardon me," Aziraphale's quaint voice spoke up from behind a wall of black feathers. Crowley looked down and his heart swelled with affection as he took in the sight of his angel peeking out from under the dark canopy. "But, um - are you a real angel?"

"He's a ghost, that's what he is," Crowley protested. "How are you here? After what I did?"

Crowley tensed and chastised himself for the admission. The full weight of everything that had happened came crashing down. Suddenly, the arm that was wrapped tightly around Aziraphale's shoulders began to burn with the shame of what he had done.

"Crowley, stop," Remiel commanded and the demon felt compelled to listen. "You have been forgiven. That is a gift you don't get to give back because you think you don't deserve it. You need to work on forgiving yourself. I already have."

"That's impossible," Crowley hissed. "I'm unforgivable, you _know_ that, Remiel. I'm a de-"

Crowley's hands flew up to his mouth and he physically recoiled with the shock of what he'd almost said. Aziraphale had forgotten _everything _about Heaven and Hell and Crowley had almost just admitted to being an actual demon. His angel would never want to speak to him again.

The angel standing beside him emitted a soft protest at the sudden loss of contact. Immediately, Crowley withdrew his wings, fearing they had given him away already.

"Crowley," the Archangel tried again. "Give me your hand."

There was no reason why Crowley should have done what Remiel asked, but he found himself doing so just the same. He was afraid the physical contact was going to hurt, but the demon surprisingly felt nothing at all.

Remiel then turned and held his hand out to Aziraphale. The angel glanced back and forth between Crowley and Remiel before hesitantly taking the Archangel's hand.

A blush began to creep up the demon's neck as Remiel moved their hands together. Fire shot up Crowley's arm as his skin came into contact with Aziraphale's. He looked up and amber eyes met blue and Crowley found he could not look away.

So much love was shining in those eyes and it was all meant for _him. _He had no idea how it was possible, but the demon knew it to be true.

"What the two of you have is so special," Remiel murmured, dropping his hand away so that they could simply be with each other. "Don't lose sight of what's most important."

Crowley took a step forward, one hand intertwined with Aziraphale's, the other hovering so close to his angel's face, yet unable to touch.

"You must learn to forgive yourself."

"I don't know how," Crowley echoed, feelings of guilt and shame began to rise.

Aziraphale closed the space between them, wrapping his free hand around Crowley's as he pressed it to the side of his face. His eyes never once looked away. "Let me help you. We'll figure it out together. You and me against the world."

"Our own side."

Aziraphale beamed and Crowley fell even more in love with him. In that moment, he didn't care that an Archangel was standing right next to them or that he'd just died a million deaths for destroying a million lives or that he was standing in a place he had never wanted to see again. How could he ever be happy here, after what Heaven had done to his angel?

All Crowley cared about in that moment was making sure this absolutely spectacular creature before him knew how much he was loved.

"You are the most amazing being to ever have existed," the demon murmured, rubbing his thumb across the soft skin of Aziraphale's cheek. "I love you more than life itself. I always have and I always will." He smiled, a real and true smile that hadn't been present in a very long time. "Of _course_ it can be you and me against the world."

And then he kissed him. Crowley kissed that beautiful, stubborn, kindhearted angel right on the mouth, almost knocking Aziraphale over with his enthusiasm. The angel let out a startled yelp before steadying himself and melting into the kiss.

_This._ This was everything. There was nothing on Heaven or Earth better than this.

Eventually, the pair pulled away from each other, cheeks flushed, chests heaving. Crowley turned toward Remiel, the most ridiculous grin on his face. Aziraphale was trying to retreat in to his flannel shirt, utterly embarrassed.

"There is, ah," the Archangel cleared his throat, looking back and forth between the pair, "one more thing we need to discuss about the two of you and your...relationship."

Indignation flared in Crowley's chest. "You can't be serious? After all this, you're going to bloody stand there and tell me that he and I can't be together? That's a load of bullocks and you know it. You, out of everyone here should know how utterly insane that is - "

"Crowley," Remiel interrupted, raising his hands to calm the demon. "You misunderstand me. I only came to offer both of you a choice."

He had not expected that. What sort of choice was the Archangel talking about?

"Aziraphale," he began, a deep sorrow in his eyes. Crowley reached an arm around the angel's waist and pulled him into a protective embrace, heart fluttering as Aziraphale's hand came to rest on his chest. "Through no fault of your own, you've become human. And Crowley," he looked over at the demon with a sympathetic glance. "Well, you are most decidedly not. That difference alone will come with its own problems."

"We'll figure it out," Crowley protested. "We always do."

Remiel shook his head, a sad smile on his face. "I have no doubts that you would. But I wanted to offer you a potential solution - rather, two solutions. If you wish to hear them."

The pair were silent. When they did not protest, Remiel went on. "I can return you to your former status as a Principality, Aziraphale. Your memories will return and things will go back to the way they were. It will be as if your human life on Earth never happened."

"And the alternative?" Aziraphale asked. Crowley was mildly surprised by the angel's reaction, but said nothing. He didn't have seventeen years worth of human memories bouncing around in his head. Who was he to judge Aziraphale on what he wanted to do?

"I can send you both back home to Earth," Remiel stated, "Where you will both live out your very human lives until She sees it fit to call you home. As your mortal life ends, your ethereal status shall be restored."

"We'd both be human?" Crowley questioned. The Archangel nodded. "And we'd turn back into our normal selves once we died?"

"Yes."

Crowley wasn't entirely sure how he felt about being a human, even for a timespan as short as eighty or ninety years. But this wasn't about him. This was about Aziraphale and what his angel wanted. Crowley would follow wherever Aziraphale lead.

"What about my memories?" Aziraphale asked quietly. "If I choose to stay human, would I get my memories back?"

Remiel was silent for a very long time. Eventually, he looked up at them and nodded his head. "If that is what you wish, then yes."

Crowley saw Aziraphale turn toward him, the question already hovering on his lips. The demon silenced him with another kiss.

"This is your call, angel," he murmured. "I will follow wherever you go. As long as I'm with you, I don't care if we're human or angel or demon. I don't care about any of that.

Aziraphale smiled, but there was a sadness to it that Crowley didn't understand. This was their chance to start over - to finally be together. Why was his angel so upset?

"I can't leave my parents, dearest," he explained, afraid that Crowley wouldn't want this, despite what he'd demon's heart softened. "I love them. They did as good a job as any human could do taking care of me. It would be a terrible 'thank you' to just up and leave them and cause them to forget me."

Crowley simply smiled and hugged the angel even tighter to his side. This was fine. He could handle being a human so long as Aziraphale was by his side. Slowly, he turned to face the Archangel standing beside them. "Do your worst," he taunted, a mischievous glint in his golden eyes. Remiel stepped forward and placed his hands on both of their shoulders.

"Best of luck," he stated. "I'll be sure to drop by whenever I'm in the neighborhood."

And then they were gone, back on Earth, together, where they had always belonged.


	24. Epilogue

**A/N: This is it guys! Hope you liked the story. If you did, feel free to let me know. I absolutely adore reading feedback! Thanks for sticking with it to the end :)**

* * *

Remiel was sitting at his desk when Uriel entered the room. She rapped on the doorframe lightly three times, gathering his attention from whatever he'd just been focusing on. The moment he saw her, Remiel had forgotten. He had a tendency to do that - only able to focus on one thing at a time.

"Uriel," he smiled. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" Things had gotten a lot better in the time they'd had to recover. The other Archangels truly had seemed to reform themselves and displayed no signs of ever going back to the way things had been before. They could actively be seen taking on tasks that directly helped humanity and often reached out to offer assistance to the angels in Heaven. He wouldn't necessarily call them friends, but Remiel felt a certain appreciation for his fellow Archangels that hadn't been there before. They had really turned things around for themselves.

Uriel took a few steps forward and dropped a piece of paper on his desk.

"This just came up from the Prayer Department. Figured I'd drop it by."

The Prayer Department? "Isn't Gabriel in charge of that? Why not bring it to him?" It wasn't that Remiel didn't want to do the work of reading the prayer over, but he had so many things to do already. Such was the life of the Head Archangel of Heavenly Affairs.

A hint of a smile appeared on Uriel's face. "This one was addressed specifically to you."

To him? Remiel knew that some humans prayed to certain saints or angels when asking for something specific, but he wasn't really patron to anything specific. The Archangel rarely ever got prayers directed towards him.

_Dear Your Mightyship,_

Remiel grinned. He knew exactly who this prayer was from.

_Get your feathery arse down here. Nineteen years is long enough. Some of us aren't immortal anymore, you know, and would really rather get on with our lives, thank you very much._

The prayer was short, sweet, and to the point. By the time he had finished reading it, Remiel was already standing, miracling on his jacket.

"Uriel," he said to the Archangel still standing in the doorway. She glanced over at him, waiting patiently to hear what he had to say. "I'm going on a trip, an extended vacation, actually." No matter what he tried, he couldn't keep the nervous smile off his face.

"Very well," the other Archangel replied. "Should I let Gabriel know, or perhaps Michael? They could likely fill in for you while you're gone."

"You can have the job."

This had obviously not occurred to Uriel as a possibility, as her mouth flew open in shock. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Absolutely." Uriel would make a fine substitute in his absence. He had absolute faith in her. "Besides, I'll only be gone a short while. Sixty or seventy years tops. Good day!"

Before she had a chance to respond, Remiel snapped his fingers and vanished from the room.

* * *

"Anthony, dear?" Aziraphale called as he pushed open the door. "I'm home. I was thinking for dinner we might try out that new italian place. I heard the chicken parmesan is absolutely _divine_."

There was no response from inside the house. Strange. Crowley had the day off and his car was parked in the driveway, so he hadn't gone anywhere. Perhaps the man was upstairs and hadn't heard him.

"Anthony?" Aziraphale called again, wondering just where in the world his boyfriend was. "Are you up there?"

_Boyfriend_. The term seemed so lackluster when describing what Crowley meant to him. Just as Remiel had said all those years ago, when Aziraphale and Crowley were returned to Earth, the former angel's memories had returned. They had come back slowly, but Crowley had been by his side through it all. Crowley had always been by his side, _on _his side, since the beginning. Aziraphale loved him all the more for it.

"Angel!" a voice called distantly from outside. Aziraphale frowned and turned toward the back door of their home. "Come out here a moment. I need an extra hand."

What in the world…? Aziraphale was thoroughly confused. What was Crowley doing outside? He supposed the other man could be gardening. It was one of Crowley's favorite pastimes, after all. But Aziraphale knew how much he hated getting dirty right before dinnertime. So it seemed unlikely his love would be out there now.

"I'll be right out, dearest," he called, placing his hat and overcoat on the coat rack by the front door. Spring had finally come, but while the days were growing warmer, the nights still bitterly hung on to winter's chill. For a moment, Aziraphale hesitated, wondering if he should bring his jacket with him, then decided against it. It was still warm enough outside and he likely wouldn't be out for long.

The former angel made his way to the back door, pushing aside the curtain so he could get the sliding door open. He struggled for a moment as the latch caught in the door frame, but after wiggling the handle slightly, it popped open and Aziraphale stepped outside.

What he saw took his breath away.

The entire backyard had been strung with fairy lights. They were everywhere - around the bushes, hanging from the trees, along the edge of the patio. He could hear soft music playing from the porch and smell the sweet scent of pine and apples.

In the center of the garden stood Crowley, next to a table set for two. Aziraphale trembled in anticipation. His beloved was dressed in a flattering black suit with red button up shirt and no tie. Aziraphale gazed down at his own khakis and blue dress shirt, complete with tartan patterned bow tie, and felt a blush creeping up on his face.

"If I had known you were planning a romantic dinner for tonight, I would have put on something a little nicer," he murmured. "I'm horribly underdressed."

Crowley laughed, his honey colored eyes twinkling with amusement. They no longer held the serpentine traits Aziraphale had gotten so used to. That was one of the things Crowley had given up in becoming human. At least the color was still the same. Aziraphale had loved Crowley's eyes before, and he loved them now, because he loved Crowley.

"Don't be silly, angel," the man said, taking Aziraphale's hand in his as he led him to his seat. "You look beautiful."

Crowley leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips and Aziraphale reached up a hand to cup the side of the man's face. He leaned into the kiss, thumb stroking his lover's face. Eventually, they pulled away.

"This is truly amazing, Anthony," Aziraphale began, looking down at the meal that had been prepared. His eyes lit up when he finally realized what it was. "Crepes? For dinner! Oh!" He gave an excited squeak that caused Crowley to grin like a maniac. "How delightful!"

When the angel and demon had been returned to Earth, Crowley had remained in his high school aged body. The boys had been around sixteen at the time and had spent a year and a half attending public high school together before they went off to university. At the time, it had seemed strange for Aziraphale to call Crowley by his human surname, so he'd taken to using the name Anthony.

It had been almost twenty years since then and the couple were still going strong. Azirapale had always expected them to last. They'd known each other for six thousand years had been friends for at least the last five or six centuries. Although Aziraphale had only been aware of his feelings towards the former demon since World War two, he knew that Crowley had loved him for much longer.

They were happy, and life was finally as it should be.

"Aziraphale," Crowley murmured as he took his own seat. The angel's heart warmed hearing his true name. Crowley only ever used it when they were alone. Anytime they were around friends and family, he had always been Will. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about, preferably before we eat. I'll be too damn nervous to eat much otherwise."

The former angel frowned. Nervous? Whatever did Crowley have to be nervous about? He knew Aziraphale better than anyone else. Crowley knew that Aziraphale would love him for the rest of time, no matter what. And wasn't that all that really mattered?

"I got a call from Anathema today," the man began, looking pointedly at Aziraphale as if that statement alone was enough to clue him in as to what this was all about.

"Oh?" Aziraphale asked. "How is the dear girl doing? It's been a while since we've been over to visit." He supposed he should really stop referring to Anathema as a girl. She was nearly twice his age at this point. Funny how time seemed to do that to a person.

"Fine, fine," Crowley said dismissively, his eyes flickering down to where their hands still sat linked together. "She called to tell me that one of our old _friends _is in town. He got in yesterday."

The way he said that word caused something to stir in Aziraphale's mind. He looked over at Crowley who was gazing at him with expectation in his eyes. Like he should have figured it out by now.

"She said he _flew _all the way _down _here to see us," Crowley supplied, his gaze intensifying ever so slightly.

It took Aziraphale exactly ten and a half seconds for everything to click together. The wonderful dinner, soft music, dazzling decorations. Crowley's gentle hints.

"Oh." The sound slipped out of his mouth before he'd finished processing the last bit of information. "Oh, OH!"

Aziraphale's eyes went wide as understanding finally hit him with full force. Crowley smiled at him warmly, then dropped to one knee, releasing his hand so he could pull a small black box from his pocket.

Was this really happening? After all this time? Aziraphale had dreamed of this moment for so long, maybe even before he'd become human, and it was finally happening! He felt his heart take off at a sprinter's pace. All sound around him faded away except for the smooth voice of his beloved as he began to speak.

"Aziraphale." The voice was strong and sure. Crowley was looking up at him with his love openly displayed for anyone to see. Aziraphale may not be an angel anymore, but he didn't have to be to understand what the man before him was feeling. It was exactly the same as the emotions in his own heart. Adoration, gratitude, joy, hope - love.

"Principality. Guardian of the Eastern Gate. Lover of books and exquisite tea. Angel of Heaven, love of my eternal life. My very best friend. When I first saw you standing on the wall of Eden, I had a sudden desire to know you. And when you gave that sword away, I thought to myself: 'I like this one. This one's different'. Over the years you became my one constant in a world that was always changing. I've loved you for as long as I can remember and I want nothing more than to love you for the rest of eternity."

It was all Aziraphale could do to keep himself seated and allow his beloved to finish. Tears were pouring down his face, but they both knew they were an outward sign of an inward joy. "Will you please, for the love of all that is holy or otherwise, please marry me?"

In that moment, the entirety of Aziraphale's very extensive vocabulary disappeared from his mind. All the letters blended together and the words turned to mush until the only coherent thing in all of existence was a simple three letter word.

"Yes."

* * *

Remiel had thought of only her when he'd miracled himself onto Earth, and so he knew that when he opened his eyes and found himself in the middle of a park, that she would be here somewhere. So, the Archangel started walking.

Walking was something he had done a lot of the last time he'd been on Earth. At the beginning, Samael had spent most of her time in bed. Once she'd healed, she had occupied herself with things to make herself stronger. Remiel had a lot of free time on his hands, so while Samael trained and studied and spent time with friends, he walked.

It was on one of these walks that the Archangel first realized his feelings for the angel he had been charged with protecting. It had been fairly early in the morning, he remembered how the birds had been chirping overhead. There had been a chill in the air, but it hadn't bothered Remiel much. He had brought his favorite sweater along for the ride.

He'd been daydreaming about something. Looking back now, he couldn't quite remember what it had been. Remiel had spent a lot of time back then thinking about humanity. Before all this, he'd never really paid much attention to the planet and its inhabitants. His job had been to care for the souls after they'd reached Heaven. There really wasn't much point in checking up on them before that. Not everyone made it to Heaven, and he hadn't wanted to get attached.

If he'd had to guess, Remiel would have said he had been thinking about Christmas and what it might look like with himself and Samael on Earth. He had been particularly drawn to human traditions and Christmas was the one he had wanted to experience the most. He pictured waking up early and making the two of them a delicious breakfast. They'd sit down in the living room and exchange gifts. Samael would sit at the piano and sing while he played through all of their favorite carols. He'd tell her how beautiful she was and she would lean in to kiss him under the mistletoe.

And that was it. Once the idea had wormed its way into his mind, it burrowed in deep and never left. He'd had too much time on his hands and had watched an inordinate amount of romantic movies. It didn't take long for Remiel to realize he loved the other angel.

It had been a blessing and a curse when he'd realized she loved him back. Remiel had thought that this love was the most spectacular thing life had to offer, but he hadn't known what true joy was until she'd come to him and apologized. She had sworn she would never abandon him, that she wanted to stay with him. She had called his gift beautiful and embraced him and he had _known_ how Samael had felt, even if she couldn't say it then.

Remiel continued to walk, breathing in the cool springtime air. It was a nice day for a visit to the park. The skies were littered with puffy white clouds and he could hear children laughing in the distance. The Archangel did not hurry along his way. He did not strain his eyes, afraid he might miss something if he did not pay close enough attention. Remiel knew he would find what he was looking for all in due time. He had faith.

The path through the trees emerged and merged with a paved walkway bordering a large field. Several families were scattered about, lounging on picnic blankets or tossing a ball for their dog. Children were chasing each other around in a game of tag. That must have been the source of the laughter he'd heard earlier.

One voice rang out louder than the others, drawing Remiel's attention. He paused along the walking path and gazed out over the field at a young boy racing across the grass, hands holding tightly onto the end of a string. Slowly, his eyes dragged themselves down the line to a young woman grasping the kite at the other end.

"Faster, Sam!" the boy was crying. "Run faster!"

The girl laughed and Remiel felt his world stop turning. Love filled his entire being as that familiar sound reached his ears. It took him back to a cottage in the country, where two angels lived and learned and loved. How had he gone for six _thousand_ years without knowing this kind of love? Now that he had it, Remiel did not know if he could live without it.

"I'm running as fast as I can, Max!" she called back. "We need more wind!"

No sooner had the words left her lips than a great gust of wind came rushing through the park. People cried out as their paper plates and newspapers went flying. The girl gave a victorious scream and then released the kite. It flew up, higher and higher and higher until it was soaring over the treetops.

Remiel watched it rise, eventually moving his gaze back to the girl. She had stopped running now and was watching the younger boy holding the kite reel proudly. Her hair was shorter than he remembered, face not quite so round. From here he could see her eyes were more gray than blue and she seemed a few inches taller than before.

Just like in a movie, a breeze blew across her skin and she turned into the wind, blonde hair billowing behind her. In that moment, the girl's gaze met Remiel's and for the briefest moment, she did not know him. Then, so slowly he could barely see it happening, recognition dawned in her eyes.

She was running, across the rest of the grassy field and down the pathway toward him. Remiel opened his arms to her as she flung herself into them, burying her face into the crook of his neck. The Archangel held her tightly to him, marveling how she could still smell this way after all these years.

Samael laughed, an overwhelming emotional laugh of relief and joy. She pulled back and beamed up at him with the same smile he had fallen in love with all those years ago. Samael may look slightly different on the outside, but internally she was the same beautiful angel he cared for more than life itself.

"What took you so damn long?" she asked, breathless, a hint of teasing in her voice, but no traces of anger or sadness.

"I wanted to make sure you had a normal life," he responded. "I didn't think it fair to come back and make you remember too soon." The Archangel paused, a frown appearing on his face. "Am I too late?"

She shook her head. "Never." Then leaned in to kiss him gently on the cheek.

He smiled.

* * *

They'd chosen October 21st as their wedding date, because how could they not? It was the anniversary of the day the world had been created over six thousand years ago. Everybody felt it only fitting to celebrate the union of a former demon and angel on that momentous day, surrounded by all their friends and family.

It came as a surprise to no one that Aziraphale had chosen Titus to be his best two had become fast friends after the events during the former angel's junior year of high school. Titus was Aziraphale's closest friend, apart from Crowley, and he couldn't have chosen his beloved because, well, Crowley was the other half of the husbands-to-be.

In a move that had shocked everyone, Crowley had asked Samael to be his Maid of Honor. Later, when they'd been alone, the former demon had admitted he'd considered asking Anathema first, but she was almost sixty and had mentioned she'd much rather simply enjoy the wedding from her front row seat. Samael had only just returned to their circle of friends several months ago, and in that time, Crowley had gotten to know her quite well. He rather liked her, now that they were not trying to kill each other. And, he recalled, it was because of this girl's mercy that he'd been given a chance at a second life as wonderful as this. So, really, how could he have chosen anyone else to support him on the biggest day of his life?

And so it went, that on the morning of October 21st, family and friends gathered together to witness the union of two souls that was long overdue. It was a celebration an eternity in the making.

Both men entered from opposite doors in the back of the chapel. Music played and they began the procession, Aziraphale dressed in white, marching up the left side while Crowley in black came up the right. Titus and Samael were already waiting for them as was Remiel, who stood at the front, ready to receive them both.

They met in the middle, as all couples must, gentle smiles filled with love and adoration on their faces. Slowly, the pair took each other's hands as they prepared to exchange vows.

The chapel was filled with all the people that had touched their lives, both now and the ones they had lived before. Anathema and Newt sat up front with Azirphale's human parents. The Device-Pulsifers had given Crowley a home when he'd had none and he would be forever grateful to them.

Behind them were The Them, who had flown in from all across the world to witness the union of Crowley and Aziraphale. They'd brought their families along for the ride, not quite able to explain how exactly they knew these younger men and just how important they had been at one point in their lives.

Ann Marie was here too, with her husband and young daughter. She smiled each time she caught Samael's eye, happy to see her best friend after so long. Warlock Dowling sat halfway back with his wife and three children. He'd grown up to be a decent man and Crowley and Aziraphale hoped it had partly been due to them.

Dozens of friends they'd made at University and in adult life afterward filled in the missing spaces. Smiles were present on every face as they anxiously awaited what would come next. Some didn't understand why the pair had waited so long to take this next step in their relationship. Others felt like the pair had been married for years already and this was merely a formality. All who were present had no doubt in their mind that this was most assuredly right.

The only ones who hadn't been able to make it were Shadwell and Madame Tracy, who had passed away years ago. They were most assuredly looking down from Heaven, along with a good number of the angelic hosts.

"My Angel," Crowley began as the music stopped and all eyes turned to him. "There are no words to describe what you mean to me. Without you, I am the worst version of myself. You gave me your love when I knew I didn't deserve it. You taught me to love in return when I knew it to be impossible. I will spend every day of the rest of my life making you smile and reminding you all the reasons you are loved. You are my everything, my angel, my saving grace. I will love you for the rest of eternity."

"Anthony," Aziraphale echoed, gazing into those warm amber eyes, never ever wanting to look away. "My love, my best friend. At times, it may have felt like you were going too fast for me to keep up, but you never once let me fall behind. You came back for me over and over again. You saved me and opened my eyes to the wonder that is life. I will follow you anywhere you go, whether it be to Alpha Centauri or back to our cottage in South Downes. I want to spend the rest of my Earthly life with you, and then the rest of eternity after. I pledge myself to you. All that I have been, all that I will be. I give it all to you. Now and forever."

Tears were shed. Soft looks of appreciation were shared between friends. This day had been a lifetime in the making. There wasn't a heart in the entire room that had not been touched by their love.

Rings were exchanged and everyone turned to the man-like being at the front of the room. He wore no halo, nor a set of wings, but there was something ethereal about him. Everyone present - those who understood the nature of these things and those who didn't all knew that this love would surely last the test of time.

The ceremony came to a close and Remiel smiled. He lifted his hands towards the heavens and presented the couple to their loved ones. "May the blessing of all those who have loved before be upon you now. I now pronounce you partners in life. In this one and whatever may come next."

Promises were sealed with a kiss, soft and pure and filled with more love than a human soul should be able to contain. There were no angels present, save one, and yet everyone could feel the symphony that was Crowley and Aziraphale's love. It filled them to the brim with hope.

They ate. They drank. They sang songs of love and joy and danced until the sun was long gone from the sky.

Somewhere in the deep deep cosmos totally separated and somehow still connected to it all, the Almighty smiled.


End file.
